Incubus Dreams
by Jemi
Summary: Has nothing to do with the Anita Blake book of the same name is revealed that Lucius Malfoy is an Incubus. And he's set his sights on Harry. What will Harry do now that he's got Lucius to contend with, as well as Voldemort? SLASH!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**_ Hello all. I've been bit by this rabit plot bunny and have decided to share. I'm taking great liberties with Incubi/Succubae, but I feel that since they're mythical creatures, tweaking them to suit the needs of this story aren't all that bad. In anycase, I've got a few warnings to get out of the way. THIS IS SLASH! There, that said, if you don't like the man-on-man lovin' don't read. Although, nothing much happens now, it'll most definately happen later. Here, I'll be posting the edited, 'R' or 'M' rated, on a few other, more liberal sites, I'll be posting the 'M+' or 'NC-17' rated version. There won't be much differences, but enough to matter. No worries, really. Warning 2, this is Lucius/Harry pairing. I'm not doing anything too dark, just dealing with some issues. So, with that out of the way, enjoy reading._

**Disclaimer:**_ All rights and such and blah, blah, blah, belong to J. K. Rowling, goddess and all supreme writer person. No money of any kind is being made off of this twisted tribute to her wonderful skills. Without her, there would be no Lucius and Harry, so let us all bow down to her superior imagination and not sue me for my hubris in thinking I could possibly be as talented as she._

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When Harry, Ron and Hermione walked into the Great Hall for breakfast one fine, late November morning, they were met with a barrage of noise. Harry was quick--and very thankful—to notice that all the excitement had absolutely nothing to do with him.

"What's going on?"

Harry rolled his eyes and just started walking towards the table, Ron and Hermione following. It was too early, and his stomach was too empty to deal with Ron and his lack of thought provoking--or even thought provoked--conversation.

Hermione on the other hand was always ready and able to handle the redhead.

"Oh honestly, Ron! How would we know? We've only just arrived. And with you, I might add."

"It's too early in the morning for you to try and have any truly cognizant thoughts, Ron.

Why don't you sit down and eat before you try again?"

Ron scowled when everyone within hearing range of the comments laughed. However, he didn't argue; it was all said in good fun. Ron was never completely capable of forming anything intelligent until he'd eaten, and Ron was the first to admit it.

Harry picked some food--mostly fruits and a bagel--and put them on his plate.

"So, what's all the commotion about anyway?" Harry looked up from a particularly ripe, red strawberry, waiting for his answer.

"Well, you notice Malfoy is not here, right?" At Dean's question, Ron and Hermione looked over. Harry just nodded, already knowing that. The first thing he did when entering a room was take stock of who all was there.

"Well, the Daily Prophet ran a story on his father. It seems he and his wife went to a party for the Minister of Magic, and Mrs. Malfoy was, shall we say, a little too in her cups."

Harry's eyes widened in understanding, trying to picture the scene, while Hermione sighed at Ron's uncomprehending look.

"She was drunk, Ron." Now Ron's eyes widened.

Seamus was the one who picked up the story as Dean just ate a bit of his porridge; which Seamus had charmed to act like cement and glue Dean's mouth shut. The Irishman cleared his throat.

"Anyway, apparently she wasn't happy about something having to do with good Lord Malfoy, because the Lady Malfoy started speaking mightily loud; airing the family's dirty laundry--as it were. And one of the juicy bits of scandal she voiced was Lucius Malfoy, poster child--er, person--for the epitome of pure bloodedness; is not quite as pure as commonly thought."

Seamus paused dramatically. It seemed he'd captured everyone's attention in the direct vicinity. The Irish lad knew how to weave a fine tale; even for those who already knew the story. Even Dean, whose mouth was still trapped shut, arms crossed, and glaring blood and daggers at Seamus, was rapt into the tale.

"'Tis a curse, some say; a boon say others; A man who can feed off of the energy of another human. And not just any energy, no; but sexual energy. A creature that woos and entices its victims; who seduces its prey; drawing them to sexual peak over and over again. They say its touch is addictive, that once felt, a person would do anything, give anything--even his soul--to only lay eyes upon this creatures angelic face; to be touched; however fleetingly, just one…more…time."

"What creature?" Harry held his breath; glad someone else asked the question and not him. Sometimes he wished the wizarding world came with a manual of some sort. But Neville asked and Harry listened.

"An Incubus of course. Read the article for yourselves."

Seamus tossed his copy of the Daily Prophet on the table, and then turned to remove the charm from Dean's breakfast. There was a scramble to reach the paper; but Harry's seeker reflexes allowed him to reach the paper first. He held it out far enough so Ron and Hermione could read it also. Harry skipped the part Seamus told and read farther down.

_It is widely assumed that Incubi can feed off of anyone. While this is true, there is one certain individual with whom they are most compatible. Incubi can more easily feed--and to a fuller extent--from that individual. After the Incubus finds that one person, he will not feed from anyone else._

_The female counter-part to an Incubus is a Succubus, and the same rules apply to them. Not much is know about Incubi and Succubae._

Harry stopped reading then, as he noticed that the Great Hall went uncharacteristically silent. They looked up and noticed that Draco Malfoy had walked into the Great Hall, causing its silence. All movement, all conversation; everything stopped--even the teachers. Every eye was on Draco, shamelessly staring. Harry almost felt sorry for the blond Slytherin, knowing what it was like being stared at. But then he remembered this was Malfoy he was almost feeling sorry for; the feelings automatically disappeared.

"Hey, if Malfoy's dad is an Incubus, wouldn't that make Malfoy one too?"

Admittedly, Ron had a good point. The food must have jump-started his brain. All eyes turned to Hermione, who just rolled her eyes.

"Oh honestly. There aren't many books on Incubi--that's plural for Incubus before anyone asks--but they are referenced with vampires. That article in the Prophet, I'm sorry to say, has the most information. But from what little there is referenced about Incubi, it's almost like a muggle cancer. It's a mutation in the very genetic make-up of one's cells."

Many of the wizard-borns didn't completely understand the muggle reference, but the muggle-borns did. Dean spoke up, shattering many confused expressions.

"Do you mean to say that Malfoy's father has a disease?" The incredulity in Dean's voice would have been humorous if not for the actual words of his statement. Hermione was in lecture mode. She was eerily reminiscent of Professor McGonagall.

"To put it so bluntly--yes. How it's contracted however, is still up for debate. No one knows if it's like vampires or lycans and passed on with a bite, or if it's a curse, or even if it's hereditary. Therefore, it is entirely possible that Draco Malfoy may also be an Incubus--or not."

Classes passed by that week and everyone's favorite topic was Incubi, Lord Malfoy, and his fate. Many of the females, and even many males, were all curious about his Incubus nature. Particularly about whether or not he'd be a good fuck. Since he was an Incubus, he had to be a master of pleasure, right? Apparently, young Malfoy wasn't taking it nearly as bad as anyone had originally believed. Of course, most everyone in school now believed Malfoy to be some sort of sexual god due to his father's being a sexual creature.

The weekend came and everyone from third-year and up was looking forward to the monthly Hogsmeade weekend. The students going all filed down the lanes towards the awaiting carriages. Harry watched the thestrals for a moment before settling into one of the carriages.

Ron, Hermione and Neville filled in also. The trip was quiet. Ron was dozing, Hermione was reading, Neville was again, admiring his new wand, and Harry was watching the scenery go by.

Their first stop upon reaching the village was Honeydukes. Candy of various kinds was always necessary--as was sugar in almost any form. When they entered, the quartet saw most of the other students had the same idea. The story was packed to overflowing, and like some

sort of fleshy vacuum, it sucked Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville inside with them.

"IT'S A MAD HOUSE IN HERE!" Ron had to yell and was still barely heard.

"YEAH. MAYBE WE SHOULD COME BACK AFTER THIS RUSH DIES OUT!"

"WHERE DO YOU SUGGEST THEN HERMIONE!" They were pushing their way out thought the crowd, which kept getting thicker and thicker. They all grabbed hands and formed a human chain.

"THREE BROOMSTICKS?"

So Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville found themselves standing outside the Three Broomsticks. Harry turned to watch some passing third years; hearing them laugh brought a small smile to his face. Almost halfway into his sixth year, those third years seem comparably young. Harry didn't think he'd ever been that young.

Harry turned towards the others to enter the establishment, but found the way blocked by one Draco Malfoy.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry mentally groaned. At the best of times, Draco Malfoy was enough to incite, perpetuate, or compound a headache. He was a self-centered wizard-elitist who put too much stock in superficiality and not enough in what truly counts. He was petty and spiteful and Harry really didn't want his weekend to be ruined by the blond Slytherin.

"What have we here? I didn't realize the Three Broomsticks was offering up for charity causes. It must be a new thing."

Ron's ears went red first, but Malfoy wasn't finished.

"I may have to rethink coming here if they let just anybody in. One must keep one's self clean and pure--as opposed to cheap and muddy after all."

Ron's face colored to match his ears and he seemed to inflate in his anger. Neville was trying to hide behind Hermione, but he was failing miserably since he was taller and broader than her. Hermione was torn between physical violence and placating Ron.

"I'm not so sure you can technically be spouting off about your pure-blood nonsense any longer Malfoy; unless you wish to appear hypocritical, and we all know how un-seemly, how undignified hypocrisy is, don't we?"

Harry wasn't looking at Malfoy; he was picking an imaginary spot from his robes. It was fun, acting as supercilious as the Slytherin, using his own imperious attitude against him.

"What would you know about it, Potter? Your dead mother was a mud-blood and look where it got her. You're only a half-blood, Potter, so what are your chances of faring better than her?"

Harry finally looked up into the other boy's eyes. They were narrowed in anger and triumph. Harry smirked, shamelessly using the same smirk as Malfoy always did.

"Oh, I'd say they'd be the same as Voldemort's." This time, Harry viciously reveled in everyone's flinch. Malfoy's comment brought forth emotions and memories he'd thought he'd buried deep enough. He pushed them away and continued talking.

"Before you officially choose a side, Malfoy, I suggest you completely understand who you'll be calling 'Master'."

A large shadow fell across the ground next to Harry. He really didn't need to know who was behind him, Malfoy's look of pleased triumph told it all. His hand was inching to his wand when a cool, suave voice spoke.

"Is there a problem, Draco, or is Madame Rosemerta now holding luncheon on her front steps?"

Harry's hand paused. It wasn't Crabbe and Goyle as he'd first suspected. No, that voice belonged to Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father. It was similar to Draco's, except the timbre was a deeper tenor. And it was smoother and more confident. Harry had the mental image of thick, dark chocolate, silky, rich, and decadent. He really did NOT want to think of that in conjunction with Malfoy senior.

"No, father, I was just catching up with my classmates."

Draco's smile was maliciously wicked.

"I see."

Lord Malfoy walked around, towards Draco, and accidentally brushed against Harry's arm in the process. Nothing so dramatic as a spark zinging throughout his body happened, but something did happen. Something inside Harry, some deep, deeper, deepest part of Harry recognized, and accepted, something deep within the elder Malfoy. Frankly, it worried Harry, because if the grin Malfoy senior was wearing was any indication, he felt it too.

"Yes, I do see." Harry absolutely knew Lucius Malfoy was referring to something completely different.

HPLMHPLMHPLM

Lucius Malfoy walked from the gates of Hogwarts. He ignored the stares of the children as he made his way through the courtyard to the main doors. He opened the doors only to be halted by Minerva McGonagall. Pausing so she could speak, Lucius absently tapped his fingers on the snake's head of his cane.

"What are you doing at the school, Mr. Malfoy? Your son is at Hogsmeade."

With all the patience in the world, Lucius answered. "I'm here to see the headmaster." There was no inflection to his voice, only a polite answer.

"I wasn't aware you had an appointment with him."

"Of course not, Professor. I don't have an appointment with Headmaster Dumbledore. However, I assure you, he will be most adamant to see me as this visit has to do with young Mr. Potter."

The professor's eyes widened; no doubt believing anything Lucius Malfoy had to say in concern with Potter also concerned the Dark Lord. And because it concerned Potter, Lucius Malfoy, and--no doubt--the Dark Lord, Professor McGonagall was already walking towards the headmaster's office before saying that Mr. Malfoy should follow.

"Is he always in his office when you need him?" Lucius asked not to put the obviously distraught teacher at ease, but because he was genuinely interested. In fact, it was a question that has interested him since he was a student.

The quiet inquiry startled the professor. Lucius suspected it was the fact that it was polite and coming from the 'evil Lord Malfoy.' They paused at the gargoyle.

"Bubblegum Taffy. Yes, actually, he usually is. Headmaster Dumbledore is usually exactly where he needs to be, when he needs to be there."

It was not a statement Lucius could refute, much to his chagrin, as he knew it to be true first hand. The headmaster seemed to have sixth, seventh, and even an eighth sense when it came to being where he was needed, though not necessarily wanted.

Lucius was happy when he got off that damnable rotating staircase. It's most certainly something Dumbledore would have. Maybe his visitors have to pass some sort of test before they can gain entrance to his office. If they don't throw up or fall down, then they pass.

Professor McGonagall knocked on the door, opening it when the headmaster bid them enter--by name. Lucius gestured for the professor to enter first. He smirked when she hesitated; not that Lucius blamed her. If given a choice, he wouldn't want him to his back either.

Apparently McGonagall's belief of her safety within the confines of Hogwarts and with the headmaster so near appeased her immediate fears.

"Professor McGonagall, Lord Malfoy, how very nice to see you. Now, what brings you here?"

Lucius peered at the headmaster, trying to discern whether or not the man knew more than he was letting on. Dumbledore was one of the very few people Lucius could not understand. And he wouldn't say anything until he had a more concrete handle on Dumbledore. Besides, he was waiting for Professor McGonagall to speak first.

"Mr. Malfoy came to the school saying he needed to speak with you, Albus. He said it concerned Mr. Potter."

"I see. Please Lord Malfoy, do sit down. Would you like something to drink? Tea? Or perhaps coffee?"

"I think not, Albus This meeting isn't a social call. I would like to get straight to the point, if you please." He called the headmaster by his first name, indicating his willingness to drop formalities.

Lucius did take a seat, however, and was pleased to note how comfortable the chair was. There seemed to be fewer objects in the office than the last time Lucius visited. He noticed that in a corner sitting on a shelf there were many broken gadgets. Aside from that, they seemed to be taken care of and cleaned.

"Then I shall leave you two to discuss what you need."

Lucius watched as the woman headed to the door. In a flash of malicious intent, Lucius spoke up just as she reached for the handle.

"Actually, I believe you should stay. This matter does include Mr. Potter and you are his Head of House, so it seems only fair to include you in this matter."

Dumbledore hadn't made any protest against the statement, and Lucius reveled in watching the battle between the professor's curiosity and her sense of propriety.

"If it's about Mr. Potter, shouldn't he be included?" The statement was spoken more towards the headmaster than Lucius. Something passed through Dumbledore's usually twinkling blue eyes, some sort of shadow. If Lucius didn't know better, he'd say it was painful regret.

Before the headmaster could say anything, Lucius spoke up.

"I have no intention of keeping this a secret to the Potter boy. I'm merely being polite and informing you of the situation. After you know the information, we may call Mr. Potter. That way he may enjoy his trip to Hogsmeade, as I see no need to interrupt his free time. Students in general, and Mr. Potter in particular, have so little of it in these dark times."

Whatever Professor McGonagall insinuated to the headmaster that caused him to tense up was lifted with Lucius' words.

"Of course. Please take a seat, Minerva. Lucius is correct, as Harry's Head of House, you should be kept appraised of the events. Harry will be told when he returns from Hogsmeade."

Professor McGonagall nodded, then sat down and immediately addressed Lucius.

"I didn't realize you held Mr. Potter's well being in such high regard, Mr. Malfoy."

Lucius bit back a laugh at the sarcasm in the professor's voice, as well as laughing at the Mr. She was one of the few who still addressed him as Mr. It must have something to do with knowing him as a student.

"Believe me when I say young Mr. Potter's well being is of the utmost importance to me."

Lucius eyed the headmaster briefly, but he still could not determine how much the man knew. He had being enigmatic and unreadable down to an art form, even as well as--if not more so--than the Malfoys. Something Lucius would never admit to on pain of death.

"I believe I have to explain so that you may understand." Lucius sat further back in the chair and looked directly at the headmaster.

"As you are aware, my darling wife ousted a very closely kept secret in her drunken state, at a very public function."

Dumbledore uncrossed his hands and stroked his beard, as if he was deep in thought trying to recall the incident.

"Ah yes, she claimed you are an Incubus. I'm sure she had it in her mind to cause a scandal and discredit your name and reputation. But I daresay she rather failed in that regard if people's reactions are any indication."

"Quite."

"I don't see how any of this has to do with Mr. Potter. Would you please explain that, Mr. Malfoy?"

Lucius didn't even try and hide his sigh. Heaven help him from impatient old biddies that interrupt a tale.

"As you know, if you read the article, Incubi and Succubae have one person with whom they are most compatible. From that person, they may feed more easily and more completely. For the first time an Incubus or Succubus lives instead of merely existing. Given a chance they would choose to live by any means possible."

Lucius sat forward, spread his legs and set his cane between his knees. He crossed his hands over the snake's head, gray eyes very intent as they bored into Dumbledore's blue.

"I've found mine."

He watched as an understanding dawned in the headmaster's eyes. It was sadistically satisfying to see the grief and resignation in the wizard's eyes. He turned at the witch's gasp and Lucius actually smirked at the rising look of horror and understanding on her face.

"That's…that's not possible. It can't…"

"I am afraid, Professor McGonagall, it is entirely possible. It is, in fact, true. I saw Mr. Potter today in Hogsmeade. I can assure you the discovery took me by surprise as well. But I trust the instincts of the Incubus, and the Incubus powers connected with, and accepted, Mr. Potter. In fact; giant, bright flashes went off inside my mind when the connection was made."

The last bit was finished in wry tones.

The headmaster looked very grave, but he seemed to know there was nothing he could do.

"What about Voldemort? Proven or not, your connection to him could cause problems. As you well know, Harry stands for everything anathema to Lord Voldemort."

Dumbledore steeped his fingers and looked at Lucius over his half-moon glasses.

"Having He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as your master--" Professor McGonagall was cut off before she could finish her statement.

"The _Dark Lord_ is _NOT_ my master."

Lucius was very vehement about that little fact, making sure to stress 'Dark Lord,' and 'not.' Professor McGonagall was taken back, but Dumbledore obtained a calculating gleam in his eyes.

"But the Dark Mark…" The professor seemed unable to gather her wits, especially after Lucius' harsh words to her last attempt at speaking.

"The Dark Mark was never officially there."

That surprised even Dumbledore enough to show it; and at that, Lucius felt ridiculously accomplished.

"Would you care to expand on that statement, Lucius?"

The blond tilted his head to the side, affecting a pose and expression of deep and serious thought.

"No, I don't think I will."

The witch looked nonplussed at that, as if denying information to Albus Dumbledore was a personal affront to her. For his part, the headmaster just nodded. But then he'd always been good at reading between the lines and biding his time. He was annoyingly Slytherin in many of his mannerisms.

"Alright, what about Harry's age? He is only sixteen-years-old, and as such, his education will come first."

Lucius inclined his head. "Of course. I refuse to be tied to someone who's uneducated. As for Mr. Potter's age in other regards, I can assure you, it is inconsequential right now."

Professor McGonagall looked up, startled. "Surely you can't mean that. He's just a child and considering how Incubi and Succubae acquire their energy, I would think Mr. Potter's age would most certainly be very important, Mr. Malfoy."

Lucius' answer was to smile a very cold and predatory smile. In fact, his smile would not have looked out of place on a shark.

"Professor McGonagall, fucking Harry is not the only way to acquire the energy I need, it is simply the most well known."

Lucius intentionally used the more crude words and Harry's name to absolutely drive home the new dynamics of his relationship with the boy.

It was true; sex didn't have to be the only way to acquire the energy. Incubi fed off of emotions, and any general strong emotions would do: lust; anger; fear; they were the best ones to feed off of. It's also true that Incubi and Succubae are generally sexual creatures, but those that are, are the ones who haven't found their complimentary halves. It's easier and quicker to seduce a victim using sexual stimuli. There was a lot the world didn't know about his breed.

The silence that followed Lucius' proclamation and that which lingered during his musings was broken by Professor McGonagall's shrill voice. Lucius briefly imagined that she was related to a harpy as she stood up and started--well, harping.

"Albus, you can't let this happen. Harry is just a child. You can't allow him to be stuck with someone as cold, as heartless, evil and…and vile as Lucius Malfoy."

If that wasn't true, Lucius might have taken umbrage at being called such things. As it was, he was merely annoyed at being spoken of as if he wasn't in the room.

"Harry is just a child with enough going on in his life; you just cannot let this happen." Gone was the strict professor; here was a woman who cared deeply for another human being; and despite himself, Lucius did appreciate the feeling on Potter's behalf.

"I'm afraid there is not much I can do, Minerva. I am not completely powerless, though." Dumbledore turned to Lucius. "During the school year, Harry will remain in the school, under its protection. You may contact him via letters, or during Hogsmeade weekends with the stipulation that a Hogwarts' professor is always present."

Dumbledore's eyes pinned Lucius in place, intent and deadly serious. Here was the man the wizarding world looked up to and turned to for support; here was the only man that Voldemort feared.

"And further more, your connection with Voldemort will be terminated."

McGonagall gasped, plopped back down in her seat, and looked at Dumbledore. Lucius raised a pale eyebrow.

"Surely Albus, you know the impossibility of that."

This time it was the headmaster who smiled coldly. In fact, Lucius had seen that very smile grace the face of the Dark Lord--usually before he tortured someone.

"Yes, the only one's who will know you terminated your service to the Dark Lord will be you, Minerva, myself, and of course, Harry."

Lucius looked at Dumbledore in a whole new light. "So you're asking me to be a spy?"

Dumbledore shrugged a Gallic shrug; one which could mean nothing or anything. Lucius sighed.

"One last thing, Lucius."

The blond looked up with narrowed eyes, wondering if he'd have to promise his fortune to the school or some such nonsense.

"You will be the one to tell Draco, and make sure he doesn't take any of his anger out on Harry. Do you agree to these terms?"

Lucius just nodded, not having any choice. He wasn't lying when he said an Incubus would do anything to keep their companion. Besides, his mind was occupied with thoughts and plans of how to tell Draco. Saying his son would be angry would be like saying that a vacation on the sun would be hot. It was a gross understatement.

"Good. We will inform Harry as soon as he returns from Hogsmeade."

Lucius rose from his seat and nodded at the professor before looking at the headmaster.

"I wish to visit with Severus. Please let me know when Potter is here."

"Of course, Lucius; Oh and thank-you for coming." Just before Lucius opened the door, Dumbledore continued. "I don't think I have to warn you, but I will in any case. Break any of the mentioned stipulations, or any added by Harry himself, do anything to endanger Harry's life, you risk the wrath of myself and all of Hogwarts."

Again, Lucius nodded before he swept out of the room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Alright, next chapter is here. I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed, and to remind those of you who didn't review, to please do so. They make me so happy. As always, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy.**

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Harry walked with his friends to the front doors of the school, laughing. The incident with the Malfoys was forgotten and all Harry wanted to do was fall into an exhausted heap on his bed. He was bone tired; Voldemort was busy and Harry felt the excesses. Whether the lunatic was gleeful, angry, or anxious; Harry felt it as pain when he was sleeping. Although, sometimes some of the feelings seeped through in the waking hours, Harry didn't feel pain. Instead his feelings mirrored Voldemort's. Only Ron, Hermione and Madame Pomfrey knew. Although he suspected Dumbledore might know.

When he and his friends stepped inside the entrance hall, they were met by a very stern looking Professor McGonagall.

"Mr. Potter, if you would please follow me."

Harry shared a look with his friends, wondering what he could have possibly done now. It was when Ron and Hermione started to follow also that Professor McGonagall stopped.

"Mr. Potter does not need your assistance right now. Return to your dormitory and wait for him there." Though her voice was stern, McGonagall's face softened. Harry nodded to his friends and resumed following his professor. He immediately noticed they were not headed to Dumbledore's office, or her office. Instead, they headed to the Great Hall.

McGonagall let Harry through the cavernous room to the ante-chamber he remembered from his fourth year. Waiting inside was the Headmaster.

"Hello Harry. I do apologize for interrupting your precious spare time, however,I am afraid this could not wait. We're just waiting for one more person."

Harry became restless. The first thought that flitted through his mind had to do with Voldemort. But that couldn't be right; Harry would be the first to know should he be up to something. His grades weren't that bad; besides, only Professor McGonagall would be needed for that.

When the door opened and Snape walked in, butterflies flew through Harry's stomach. When the man smiled maliciously, those butterflies became more violent and fluttered in his throat. It was the entrance of Lucius Malfoy that caused those butterflies to still…only to be replaced with…nothing. Even Harry's blood froze in his veins. This was not good, really not good. Harry knew it, and he knew it had something to do with what happened in front of the Three Broomsticks. Harry did not want to be in that room.

"Good, you've arrived. Although, I hadn't realized, Severus, that you would be joining us."

"I would not miss this for the world." As much as Snape's voice sounded like warm honey, Harry knew better. It was as cold and sharp as glass, and if he was happy, then Harry was frightened.

The headmaster just gave his Potions Master one of his piercing stares before he seemed satisfied. He waved his wand and conjured enough chairs for everyone to sit comfortably.

Harry sat in a chair next to Professor McGonagall, and semi-close to Dumbledore. If the almost smile Snape was wearing was any indication, Harry wanted all the protection-not to mention support-he could get. A tense silence filled the room, which Dumbledore broke.

"How was your trip in the village, Harry?"

The question was so out of place, but it did help to break the tension with its frivolity.

"It went very well, thank you. It was nice to be able to have a break from the rigors of school.

The headmaster nodded his head and said, "Yes, a chance to get away and have time to one's self away from teacher's prying eyes is indeed a welcome change."

Harry didn't say anything in reply, not feeling any need. But he did wonder why he was here, sitting with such a bizarre collection of individuals. Harry surreptitiously glanced toward Lord Malfoy seeing only an almost bored expression on the aristocrat's face.

"I don't mean to be so forward, or sound rude," Harry ignored Snape's disbelieving snort and continued on, "but why are we here? What did you need to speak with me about?"

It was Lord Malfoy who spoke, his cultured voice filling the small room.

"It was I who called for this--meeting--. You may recall an article in the Prophet earlier this week about me and a not-so-secret-anymore secret?"

Harry didn't really know if it was a question or a statement so he decided to treat it as a question. He raised an eyebrow and looked straight at the blond.

"I may have heard mention of it here and there a few times this week, yes."

Snape's face darkened, but Harry thought he saw reluctant amusement in Lord Malfoy's eyes. It was so fleeting, however; that Harry may have imagined it.

"Indeed. Tell me, how much do you know of Incubi?"

Harry shrugged, his stomach sinking. "As much as whatever was in the Prophet and whatever else Hermione was able to research. So; all things considered, not that much."

Lord Malfoy nodded as if in confirmation to an answer he already knew.

"There is one person in the entire world that is perfectly compatible with an Incubus. Their energy, their magic, even their personalities, are perfectly aligned to complete the other."

Harry's dread worsened, threatening to suffocate him. He _knew_ what the man was going to say, he just didn't want to believe it. So long as Lord Malfoy didn't really say it, what Harry knew could be denied. His mantra did little to soothe his fears. Repetitions of 'don't say it, don't say it,' couldn't quell the dread.

"You, Mr. Potter, have been chosen by the Fates to perfectly complete my Incubus."

It was out in the open now and Harry still did not want to accept it. He wanted to burst from his seat and say the blond was lying, that none of it was true. It was just another lame plot of Voldemort's.

He wanted to burst out laughing; tell everyone that it was a good joke, but seriously…

Only Harry knew the truth, he knew it the second Lord Malfoy touched him in Hogsmeade. It was just Harry was absolutely and totally okay with denial. He was very good at denial. Harry was silent for so long, his head of house was worried.

"Mr. Potter? Harry, are you alright?"

Harry looked at his professor blankly before nodding.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm just…shocked. It is a bit to take in. I can't quite wrap my mind about it yet."

McGonagall nodded, but Snape sneered. "Considering the size of your brain Potter, I'd find it surprising you'd be able to wrap it about anything."

Harry looked at Snape but he didn't feel any anger towards the man's insult. They'd become too common, Harry was practically impervious. Only when the Potions Master mentioned Harry's godfather, could he get a rise out of Harry. Instead, the one who seemed to have a problem with the insult was Lucius. He made a noise similar to a growl deep in the back of his throat and four sets of surprised eyes turned towards him.

Indeed, Lucius was himself, surprised. His feeling of fierce protectiveness rose in him towards Harry at the insult. He didn't know why. He did know that being this close to the boy was affecting him…and quite painfully. His Incubus was fighting to rise to the surface and feed from its perfect partner, and it was making Lucius uncomfortable. Using every bit of control he had, Lucius pushed the Incubus back down.

"Lord Malfoy, are you alright?" Headmaster Dumbledore's gentle inquiry brought Lucius' attention back to his surroundings.

"Quite."

Dumbledore nodded and turned to Harry, who was glancing questioningly at the blond. He spoke, bringing the young Gryffindor's attention to him.

"Harry, I know this is overwhelming to you. Maybe we may help. Do you have any questions?"

Yes, Harry had about a million and one questions; he just didn't know which one to ask. Finally, he just blurted something out.

"What about Voldemort?"

Lucius raised an eyebrow, but he was going to answer the meaning of the question instead of the actual wording. Only Severus spoke up first.

"Potter, what have I told you about saying that name in my presence?"

Harry rolled his eyes, but before he could reply to his ornery teacher, the headmaster spoke.

"Severus, please be a bit more amenable towards Harry. This is a lot to take all at once. And besides, of anyone here, Harry as the right to the answers to his questions, most especially any concerning Lord Voldemort."

The Potions Professor nodded his head at the gentle rebuke and settled in his chair. Harry decided to rephrase his question a bit more coherently.

"With your connection--proven or not--to Voldemort, problems may arise and complicate things for both of us. How would we fix these problems; preferably before they arise?"

Snape looked surprised, or Harry thought he detected surprise, at Harry's question. Harry sat on the urge to roll his eyes. He could form coherent, intelligent sentences; it was just easier when he didn't have someone who hated and insulted him around.

"The Dark Lord is not my Master; therefore, I do not answer to him."

Harry listened, but he couldn't help but believe there should have been more tacked onto the declaration. Lord Malfoy was leaving something off and Harry didn't know why.

"If Voldemort attacks me, what would you do? Side with him, me or do nothing?"

Did Lord Malfoy look uncomfortable? No, he didn't, but Harry knew he was.

Lucius didn't want to answer the question; mainly because in doing so, he would give too much information away. But he had to say something.

"An Incubus will do anything to insure the safety of its companion from others. Therefore, if the Dark Lord was to attack you, and there was anything I could do to either stop it, prevent it, or help you; then the Incubus would ensure I do so."

The Incubus in Lucius rose snarling to the surface at even the hypothetical of its own being attacked. It had been too long since Lucius had fed, it was taking all he was to try and placate it. And apparently Dumbledore noticed because he got up and headed towards the door.

"I think we should give Lord Malfoy and Mr. Potter a brief period of time to become better acquainted and to work things out."

Lucius wasn't sure if he should thank the man for being so observant and meddling, or curse him for leaving Lucius alone with the object of the Incubus' obsession.

"Albus, do you think it wise?"

Yes, Professor McGonagall, ever the stalwart prude; or maybe she really cared for Potter.

"Of course Minerva. Now come, we won't be gone for long."

The headmaster walked to the door and waited for the other two professors to join him. And after one last malicious and satisfied smirk in Potter's direction, Snape did leave.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. They really do make me so happy. I'm not a review whore, I'll still post even if I don't get that many, but reviews do help to inspire authors; they help point out what's wrong or where to go next. And a support system is always wonderful. **_

_**Disclaimer: All rights and such and blah, blah, blah, belong to J. K. Rowling, goddess and all supreme writer person. No money of any kind is being made off of this twisted tribute to her wonderful skills. Without her, there would be no Lucius and Harry, so let us all bow down to her superior imagination and not sue me for my hubris in thinking I could possibly be as talented as she. **_**

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Outwardly, Lucius was calm and cool; inwardly he was coiled tighter than a spring. A mere meter away was the one being that could fully satisfy the normally insatiable Incubus. Lucius wanted nothing more than to feed--from Harry. He didn't care how; his screams of pleasure, fear or pain; he just wanted to feed.

Tendrils of Incubus energy and power must have seeped through Lucius' control and was affecting the young man. Harry licked his lips and swallowed around a suddenly dry throat. He felt a bit of magic lick at his own magical core. He looked wide eyed at Lord Malfoy.

When those wide green eyes pinned him, Lucius made his decision. Why was he attempting to control himself; deny himself what was rightfully, and fated to be, his? The headmaster willingly and knowingly left, subtly giving his consent.

Lucius got up and carefully put his cane on his seat. Then he took off his cloak and folded it, then placed it on the chair also. Lucius decided to unbutton the top few buttons of his crisp, white, satin shirt. Light from the wall sconces caught on the pearl buttons and reflected on the gold chain about his waist.

Harry watched, transfixed, at the methodic actions of the blond man before him. For the first time, Harry could actually reconcile the image of Lord Malfoy; Death Eater, and Lucius Malfoy; sensuous Incubus. Every move was unconsciously graceful and fluid. The light caught on the different shades of blond in Lord Malfoy's hair. Wheat, platinum, silver and gold shone forth; tied back at the base of his skull to reveal his classically beautiful face.

His arms were lean within the loose confines of his pure white sleeves. Harry watched lean, graceful hands unbutton the pearls at the wrist and delicately roll the sleeves up to mid-forearm. A large gold ring set with onyx and emerald stones caught Harry's eyes. And then sense came back to him. Harry fought against the seduction of the Incubus.

"Sir?"

Lucius didn't stop his actions. His hands went to the tie in his hair, releasing the silken strands from their bond.

"Yes Mr. Potter?"

Harry swallowed a gasp. That voice, where before it was low, smooth and silky; now it was husky and tangible. Harry felt it slide up his spine in a light caress.

"I still have some questions."

Lucius finally stopped, having finished with whatever he was doing. He walked over to Harry and held out his hand.

Harry looked at the appendage. His attention was once again caught on the ring. It held the Malfoy Family crest. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, once again feeling the pull of the Incubus. Harry reached his hand out, stopping just short of touching Lucius' larger one.

"What happens if I refuse this…bond?" Bond seemed like the best word to describe whatever was happening between them.

Lucius' nostrils flared and his pupils dilated in fury at the question. He reached his hand and grabbed Harry's in a crushing grip. Lucius felt the bones crunch together in the hand he was gripping, but didn't lessen the hold. His respect for the boy went up when Harry didn't make a sound of protest or wince against the pain.

However, when Lucius yanked Harry from the chair, he reveled in the shocked/pained expression that briefly flitted across the young Gryffindor's face. He dropped to his knees, forcing Potter to do likewise. With his free hand, Lucius gripped the boy's chin in a second bruising grip. Lucius smiled a cold and dangerous smile when he felt the boy's emotions. Anger, resentment, defiance, lust, and a smidgeon of reluctant fear.

Bringing their faces close, Lucius answered, "Refusal of this bond in not an option I will allow. Your only options are to enter and accept this willingly--or not. But accept this you will, even if I have to break you to do it. I refuse to be driven to madness because you decided to reject and deny something you are fated to."

Potter's expressive green eyes widened slightly before he nodded imperceptibly. Lucius released his chin and slightly loosened the grip about the boy's wrist.

The elder Malfoy inhaled deeply all of Harry feelings, happily becoming addicted. He wanted more, desperately needed more--rather the Incubus in him did. But Lucius wouldn't let his precious control slip.

With his free hand, Lucius unhooked the boy's coat, drinking in the sight of that slender form. The shirt was cotton and it was button-down. Lucius pulled the coat down the boy's shoulders, but not completely off, trapping his arms. Then Lucius unbuttoned half the buttons of the soft cotton shirt, feeling the even softer skin beneath.

Harry was torn; he felt the Incubus' seduction but he didn't want to just give in.

"Wait, what about…Malfoy, I mean…Draco? Have you told him yet?"

Lucius groaned in annoyance, but he did understand the importance of the question. His Incubus within actually seemed to whimper, though Lucius gave no outward appearances of it. Here was his complete and perfect bond mate, and Harry insisted on talking--about Draco.

Lucius watched Harry's pulse flutter on his neck. His free hand lifted and encircled the boy's delicate neck, thumb brushing over the pulse point.

"I will deal with Draco. It would be best if you weren't anywhere near him for a period after I tell him. But you do not have anything to worry about in concerns to him."

Harry nodded; it was all he could do. He found Lucius' touch strangely comforting considering the older man's hand was still crushing his wrist and his other was around his neck. Harry swallowed; his Adam's apple bobbing under Lord Malfoy's hand.

"What about your wife, Lady Malfoy?"

The hands tightened minutely, but it was enough to catch Harry's attention. Lucius' slate eyes glowed bright for a second before they narrowed into slits.

"Narcissa has been dealt with accordingly and no longer carries the title of my wife or Lady Malfoy. Her behavior of late has been unbecoming of a Malfoy."

Harry's eyebrows rose straight to his hairline. His curiosity was roused about what actually happened to the former Lady Malfoy. However, he held his tongue in that regard, not wanting to incite the other man's anger.

"I know you said your Incubus nature wouldn't allow me to come to harm from anyone else, but can you say it will keep me from harm where you're concerned?"

Lucius' smile was glacial and Harry's fear of the blond rose; he had his answer.

Lucius' thumb slid up to the corner of Harry's jaw, tilting it to the side and baring Harry's neck. His head lowered until he could feel the boy's quickening pulse upon his lips. Other than the shallow rise and fall of his chest, Harry remained frozen.

Ghosting breath along the way, Lucius' lips paused next to Harry's ear, and in a soft, gentle voice, he spoke, "There is so much I could teach you, Mon Ange. I have the skills to make you scream from pleasure…or pain, or even both. I could break you, then rebuild you; mold you to what I want. I could make you stronger, even more so than your headmaster or the Dark Lord. All you have to do Harry…is submit to me."

Lucius nuzzled behind Harry's ear, drowning in his youth and innocence. He could feel the boy start to shake as he felt more of the pull from the Incubus, but still fought it. Lucius smiled as he licked the patch of skin behind Harry's ear. He didn't want an easy conquest. Surrender and submission from the boy will be so much sweeter when truly earned; forced even.

Harry pulled back, anger flashing in those green, green eyes.

"I refuse to be forced into anything Lord Malfoy. I will agree to the bond, but I reject any notion of you treating me as a mere object. I don't let Dumbledore do it, I don't let Voldemort do it, and I sure as hell won't let you do it. I am a human being and will be treated as such."

Lucius grinned as he returned to nuzzle the side of Harry's neck, murmuring against the flesh, "Very well. You shall be treated as more than my toy. In return, however, your grades must go up, I want them as high as Draco's. I will not be tied to a simpleton."

Lucius drank in the indignation and anger radiating from the boy. In this one case, Lucius was glad for the Gryffindor tendency of letting their emotions run free. Lucius' Incubus was having a feast.

"Alright, but keep in mind, Professor Snape unfairly marks down my work and ignores sabotages done to my practicals by his precious Slytherins."

Those two last words were hissed, and for a second, Lucius lost his focus. The sibilant tones slithered down his spine sensuously, like a whisper. It gave Lucius ideas.

"I will speak with Severus."

Harry pulled back, almost completely out of Lucius' grasp and looked at him through narrowed eyes before nodding once.

"This will be a secret."

Lucius raised one pale blond eyebrow. "Are you embarrassed or ashamed to be so closely connected to a Death Eater? Or is it a man?"

Harry gave Lucius a withering glare worthy of the Potions Master himself.

"No, it's my life--sort of--and I stopped caring what people think. Truth or lies, they will believe what ever they want no matter how viciously and absolutely wrong they are. The only ones who matter will know the truth and that's all I care about. I want this to remain a secret as long as possible because of Voldemort. If he knew of this--thing--your life would be in danger and I can't have that."

"My life is in danger in any case Mr. Potter."

Harry nodded and unconsciously leaned towards the other man.

"You knowingly and willingly putting your life in danger is one thing. Your life being in danger due to your connection to me is another thing entirely. If you do something stupid like say, 'Gryffindor rules and Voldemort drools,' and he punished you; no skin off my back. But if Voldemort tortures you simply because of this, something which is out or both of our controls; well then, that I can not, and will not stand for."

Lucius leaned back to properly look at the Gryffindor. He had to look in to look directly into those verdant eyes to discern any feeling or intention, as Harry had somehow, and very inconveniently, managed to block his emotions.

What he saw was amature and determined young man who seriously took the safety of those around him. It was humbling, the depths Lucius saw in those emerald orbs; and as a man not used to such a feeling, Lucius physically and mentally backed off.

"Alright Mr. Potter. We'll keep it a secret except to those who need to know."

Harry merely nodded, then froze. He looked down at the hand Lucius still had clamped around his wrist, and then he seemed to just realize his state of partial undress and glared accusingly at Lucius.

"Do you think I can get back to being properly dressed before my professors return?"

The request was said with such an air of expectancy of being followed that Lucius couldn't help but laugh. He was almost, but not quite, surprised that his laugh was laced with real humor.

Harry _was surprised _at the laughter, but was uncomfortable with the closeness of the older man. He tried to extricate his wrist from Lucius' hold but gasped when it tightened. Harry pulled his hand away a bit more insistently, eyes narrowed in what almost appeared to be calculation.

Lucius' eyes closed as the Incubus once again made a strong and insistent appearance. It had receded slightly during their conversation and the brief taste of Harry's emotions from before; but apparently patience was wearing thin. Lucius closed his eyes and inhaled deeply of Harry's scent.

"Don't struggle. It's…intoxicating."

Harry paused at the words, his suspicions confirmed.

"You've not fed."

Lucius opened his eyes and Harry saw they were slightly glowing.

"Not recently, no. However, now is not the time, nor will there be time enough in the near future. Don't look at me like that. We'll wait until the winter break, that way it will be fully and properly done. Until such time, I will be forced to steal moments like a rutting, hormonal teenager."

Harry smirked at the disgust in the blonde's voice. Satisfied that he wouldn't be molested at that moment, Harry pulled his wrist free, scooted back and set himself to rights. When he finished, Harry looked and saw Lucius was as immaculate as ever. He rolled his eyes and snorted in amusement, then turned towards the door. He had just grasped the handle when a solid, warm presence pressed up against his back, and an arm wound about his chest, bringing him flush against Lucius. Harry froze.

"Remember one thing, Harry Potter. You belong to me now."

A hand closed over Harry's and opened the door, causing Harry to stumble as he was released. He looked behind him and glared at Lucius, then turned to smile at Dumbledore.

"I trust thing have been worked out?"

Harry answered, completely ignoring the blond who went to stand next to Snape.

"For the most part. There are a few minor details to work out, and I am sure Lord Malfoy has a few more things to say on the matter. However, that is all for another time. I'm tired now and I have some homework due Monday that I need to finish. I'd also like to see my friends."

"Will you be telling them about what happened?"

Harry thought back to what happened in that room. No, he was NOT going to be telling that bit to his friends. But he would give them the general gist of what new mess he was in now.

"No, not right now anyway. They don't need to worry about it, especially when there's nothing to be done. I'll ask that no one else tells them either. I'm still coming to terms with all that's been revealed today. I'll tell them when I'm ready to tell and when they're ready to listen. Right now, they'd view it very unfavorably, most especially Ron."

Harry caught Lucius' sneer at the mention of Ron and glared back.

"Whatever you think is necessary Harry. But I ask that you not leave it too long. They may respond just as unfavorably to being kept in the dark as to the actual circumstances."

Harry levelly looked at the headmaster, understanding the acknowledgment of a mistake.

"I promise I won't leave it too long. I just need a bit of time to assimilate this myself before I get others involved."

Dumbledore nodded and turned to Lucius.

"And you, Lord Malfoy? You do intend to inform your son, correct?" Expectancy oozed from every word.

"I have no doubt of Draco's assimilation and acceptance of this news. However, I do not plan on telling him until he is home during the winter holiday. Something of this magnitude should not be revealed in such a public forum as a school, but in one of more comfort and familiarity for my son."

Harry didn't say anything in regards to that plan; in fact he wholeheartedly supported it. The longer he could put off dealing with the young Malfoy, the better.

Professor McGonagall was quietly watching the goings on, not liking the situation, or entirely comfortable with Harry's new connection with Lord Malfoy. When Lucius Malfoy was finished speaking, McGonagall spoke up.

"I volunteer to be the chaperone on any meetings between Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy that take place on Hogwarts grounds as well as Hogsmeade outings. Due to the Incubus nature, I understand certain allowances must be made, but Harry is sixteen and still a minor under Hogwarts' care. As such, certain boundaries and limitations will be made and I will ensure they are followed."

Harry shrank into the background, not particularly interested in the many rules, confident in his professor's ability to keep him in line. He was thinking of when and how he should tell Ron and Hermione of his new predicament. He had absolutely now idea and didn't even know how to broach the subject.

"I think that sums everything yup that is of immediate concern. Lord Malfoy may contact Harry through letters or a teacher, and may meet in person on Hogsmeade weekends with a chaperone. During the winter break, Harry will go to Malfoy Manor. Lord Malfoy will swear a Wizard's Oath to go no further than Harry willingly and knowingly, allows, in anything and everything."

Harry wished he didn't have to hear this, not when anything was spoken in regard to sex, him and Lord Malfoy, and with his teachers in the room.

"You may return to your dorm now Harry. Have a good night, my boy."

Harry nodded and replied, "Thank you Headmaster, Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape…Lord Malfoy."

Harry walked toward the door leading out of the Great Hall and to freedom. However, he had to pass Lucius to do so. As he neared the man, Harry could feel the heat radiating from his body. He knew the older man had tensed slightly, although for all outward appearances, he appeared collected and at ease. Harry paused when Lucius reached a hand out and caressed Harry's neck, his thumb briefly caressing his pulse point. He was forced to remain paused when Lucius fully encircled Harry's neck.

From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Professor McGonagall tense up, about ready to protest. She was stopped by a restraining hand belonging to Snape.

Lucius looked deeply into Harry's eyes and Harry boldly looked back. Slowly silver orbs stared glowing brighter and brighter, causing Harry to fall further and further into them. Suddenly Harry cried out in shock and pain.

Nothing external and nothing he could specifically name caused his pain; it was everything, everywhere all at once.

Harry latched onto something tightly and felt himself being clutched in return. He opened his eyes, not remembering when he closed them, and found himself looking at Lucius. The pain lessened and Harry felt faint and drained. The last thing he remembered seeing before he passed out was Lucius' eyes turning from quicksilver to emerald, then back to silver.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry sat, almost sullenly, in the back compartment of the train. It was the winter holidays and he had the honor of spending it at Malfoy Manor. The invitation sounded more like an order, but really; who was he to turn down a holiday at Malfoy Manor, invited from Lord Malfoy himself?

It was the first time Harry had ever left the school for the break and an odd feeling settled in his stomach. Even odder, was that Hermione and Ron weren't with him. They knew the story, at least the most important bit; but the two of them were off performing prefect duties. Harry thought back on the conversation he had with Ron and Hermione.

_Harry woke up, surprisingly enough, in his own bed as opposed to the hospital wing. It was a small blessing. Harry closed his eyes and thought back to what happened with Lucius Malfoy. He didn't know what happened and he didn't particularly want to know. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been good considering how physically exhausted he was. Oddly enough, Harry felt magically revitalized._

_Harry focused on his breathing. It was a technique he'd learned from a muggle book on yoga he'd seen at the grocer's when he had been given the rare opportunity to go with his aunt. It was a subject that so intrigued him that Harry owled Hermione and asked her to get him as many books as she could on the subject._

_Harry found that the meditation and breathing techniques helped greatly in his bid for control over his anger, his magic, and in his occlumency; something he'd taken to studying on his own._

_Harry tried to sit up, but found he couldn't move. The second he tried, a loud alarm sounded, followed by the sound of footsteps. The door slammed open and what looked to be all of his year mates, and half of the rest of Gryffindor house, tried to squeeze through the door at once. Everyone, then, started talking at once, causing Harry's head to throb. _

_"Harry, you're finally awake…"_

_"…We tried everything…"_

_"…Madame Pomfrey couldn't…"_

_"…Not even Dumbledore…"_

_"…Three days…"_

_"…So worried, didn't know…"_

_Harry wished he could go back to being unconscious. He tried to say something, but he couldn't drum up the energy to open his mouth and speak. Fortunately, Hermione noticed his condition and sensed his need for quiet. She took out her wand; severely swished it through the air, and blessed silence was the outcome. The others were still animatedly talking, not seeming to notice the loss of their voices. Harry, for his part, gave Hermione a grateful look._

_"You look much better than when they first brought you up. You were in some sort of coma. Madame Pomfrey tried everything, Professor Snape was called in, even Professor Dumbledore couldn't wake you up."_

_The others finally noticed their inability to be heard and stood still, alternately sending worried glances toward Harry and angry glares toward Hermione, who blithely ignored them and continued talking to Harry._

_"No one would say what happened or how you got in the state you were. But after Madame Pomfrey diagnosed that you were, in fact, in a magical induced coma, I looked up their causes. There are different scenarios for both. Would you like to know?"_

_Harry didn't truly want to know, and especially not then. But he could tell that Hermione was buzzing with the desire, the absolute _need _to tell. So he slowly tried to nod, hoping Hermione would correctly interpret it. And of course, being Hermione, she did. _

_"One is because you're sick and precariously close to death; your magic is the only thing keeping you alive. _

_"Another is that your body and magic are adjusting to a change--something is added or subtracted from you original magical signature. Maybe there is a dormant gene that has been awakened and your body, not to mention magic, need to acclimate themselves to this change._

_"And yet another is some sort of bond occurred. There are different possibilities for that one. The bond could have been forced prematurely, or it could have been forced over another bond. Your body might have rejected it, or tried to reject it, thus you're being in a coma."_

_Harry furrowed his brow; taking a small moment to rejoice in his ability to move even that much. Is that what Lucius did? Try and force the bond? Maybe invoke it too soon? _

_"Of course, since this is you, Harry; almost anything is possible, and you being in this coma could have absolutely nothing to do with anything to than you're, well…Harry Potter."_

_Harry would have glared if he didn't know Hermione had a point. And if his eyelids would cooperate. They felt heavy and decided to droop._

_"I think we should leave. Harry can barely keep his eyes open. He's obviously still completely exhausted." Hermione's words were the last thing Harry heard before sleep overtook him completely._

_The next time Harry woke up, Hermione and Ron were sitting side by side on Ron's bed, reading some book. Rather, Hermione was reading a book; Ron was trying to be inconspicuous about looking down her shirt. Harry tried moving and was ecstatic when he could. He was slow and sluggish, but mobile…sort of._

_"How long have I been out all together?"_

_Ron looked up, surprised happiness written all over his face. Hermione smiled warmly and answered, "Three days. It's almost dinnertime on Tuesday and you were in a coma since Saturday. How are you feeling?"_

_Harry took stock; his physical energy still felt low, and his magic still felt abnormally high. But something felt different; he just couldn't put his finger on it._

_"Honestly, I'm surprised I'm not in the infirmary with Madame Pomfrey fretting over me, poking, prodding and scanning."_

_"Well, she almost popped a vein when it was suggested you remain in the dorm. But when the headmaster seconded that opinion, she gave in. You sure had everyone worried. Everyone thought it had something to do with You-Know-Who."_

_Harry rolled his eyes. Anytime something happened to him, people thought it was directly related to Voldemort. Granted, it was generally true, but it did get annoying. Harry was NOT the doomsday devise, and he would like it if people would stop treating like one._

_"What happened to you, Harry? No one will tell us. Professor McGonagall only looked and angry every time someone asked, and Headmaster Dumbledore said that it wasn't his place to explain. We've been worried, asking so many questions and not getting any answers."_

_Ron nodded along and added, "Yeah, but it can't be anything good. Every time it was mentioned around Snape, he smirked--almost gleefully. That was scarier than thinking you'd died."_

_"RON!"_

_  
"Well, it's true, Hermione. He looked like his Christmas, birthday and the end of school came at once."_

_Hermione didn't look mollified, but she didn't say anything else._

_"So, Harry, what happened? It didn't really have anything to do with You-Know-Who, right? Dumbledore said it didn't, but still. I'd feel more sure hearing it from you."_

_"No Ron, it had nothing to do with Voldemort." Harry watched Ron's customary flinch at the Dark Lord's name, and was shocked when he took a dark pleasure from it._

_When Harry, trying to think of a way to explain without giving too much away, didn't immediately continue, Ron spoke up. _

_"So, Harry, come on, what happened? There's no way you're not going to tell us, right?" Ron's voice and automatic assumption to know grated on Harry's nerves, annoying him probably more than it should._

_'Ron, just give Harry a second. Maybe if you be quiet long enough, he'll tell us what he knows and we can all work on this together."_

_Harry felt intense anger at Hermione now. It annoyed him that she would instantly presume that he would automatically share everything with her. It wasn't her business; it didn't happen to her. Immediately, Harry regretted the feelings, appalled at them and at their potency._

_Harry took a deep breath, once again relying on his breathing techniques. _

_"I'll tell you guys, but you have to promise not to tell anyone else. No exceptions; this is a very important secret. Also, you have to remain calm until the very end. No prematurely blowing up, Ron. It is crucial that you don't."_

_Harry looked expectantly at his friends. Thankfully they didn't immediately jump to promise; they took their time to think it through. Harry, meanwhile, took the opportunity to sit up. He felt shaky, but his strength was returning._

_"If it's that important Harry, I'll give a wizard's oath."_

_Harry sighed in relief at Hermione's words, grateful that he'd have her to help him. He turned and looked expectantly at Ron._

_"I promise not to tell anyone. And I promise to, at least, hear you out completely before becoming irrational."_

_Harry smiled and nodded, knowing that was the best he could get._

_"Right, well, you remember that article in the 'Daily Prophet' about Lord Malfoy being an incubus?"_

_Both nodded and Harry took a fortifying breath._

_"Good. Remember that we ran into Malfoy outside of the Three Broomsticks? Well, do you also remember that his father showed up there?" Harry paused to take a deep breath, then continued. "I felt something."_

_Hermione and Ron waited for Harry to continue, and when he didn't Ron finally asked, "Felt what?"_

_"I dunno…just something. Recognition? A zing? I dunno, but it was something, and he felt it too."_

_Harry looked at Hermione. Hermione, who memorized practically everything she read. Hermione, who at that instant was mentally re-reading the article. Hermione, whose face was showing the beginnings of understanding and horror._

_"Oh, my…Oh Harry."_

_"What, what's this 'oh Harry' about? What do you know?"_

_"One person perfectly completes and compliments an Incubus. Harry felt something; Lord Malfoy felt something. Lord Malfoy is an Incubus and he felt something with Harry. Harry is the one…who…the one who…"_

_Ron's eyes widened comically larger with the dawning of understanding. Harry took the time to be darkly amused, a feeling he was finding occurred more and more as of late. He watched at how uncharacteristically quickly Ron picked up on what Hermione was saying. _

_"Yes Ron. That means I am the complete, other half to Lucius' incubus."_

Harry sighed at the memory, thankful that his friends were there for him. Ron was disgusted and horrified, of course. It was a Malfoy after all, and not just any Malfoy, but THE HEAD Malfoy. Hermione understood the severity and importance, but like any situation where she felt she had insufficient knowledge, she headed to the library.

While Hermione and Ron were there for him, Harry still felt alone; with no one he could turn to and talk with. The necessity for secrecy, stipulated by him, kept him from seeking any form of aid or comfort.

So Harry was headed to Malfoy Manor; into the proverbial snake's pit. The only contact he'd had with Lucius Malfoy since all the revelations was by mail. It surprised Harry that no physical contact of any kind; no face-to-face meetings or anything, occurred; only letters.

Harry snorted. They couldn't really be called correspondence in the traditional sense, as Lord Malfoy instructed Harry. They detailed all the areas in which Harry was deemed inefficient, and all the skills and lessons he'd need to learn over the two week holiday period, as befitting a wizard and anyone associated with a Malfoy, even if it was still a secret. Harry was getting a headache just thinking about all these lessons.

The door to his compartment opened, interrupting Harry from his thoughts. He looked up and in walked another, more immediate headache. Draco Malfoy.


	6. Chapter 6

Draco Malfoy walked into the car as if he owned it. Harry stifled a groan. As far as he knew, Draco didn't know about Harry's relationship with the elder Malfoy.

"What do you want, Malfoy? Don't you have some first year to torture?"

The blond Slytherin didn't answer. He just walked further in and sat down, all the while staring at Harry.

"What are you looking at?" Harry was beginning to feel nervous, which in turn annoyed him. "Look, say something, do something, or get out. I don't have the time or the energy to try and figure out what's going on in your twisted, scheming brain."

Malfoy still didn't say anything, so Harry blew out a breath, rolled his eyes and turned to look out the window. Harry really didn't mind Malfoy's presence, so long as the Slytherin didn't try and do anything. Regardless, Harry palmed his wand, removing it from a hidden pocket sown into his sleeve.

"I don't understand the fascination everyone seems to have with you."

Malfoy's cultured tones sliced through the silence, startling Harry. He managed to hide his reaction, something for which he was very grateful.

"I beg your pardon?"

Malfoy snorted, "Beg, yeah, right." The words were mumbled, but Harry ignored them as the blond continued. "The whole wizarding world is fascinated by you, and I don't understand why."

"I'm the Boy Who Lived." It was said with such disgust that Malfoy blinked, but Harry continued in the same voice. "You know, for someone who doesn't understand the fascination, you seem to be pretty obsessed yourself."

Malfoy waved his hand, dismissing the importance of that revelation.

'That's different. With me, it was more about knowing a rival. It's on an entirely different level. I don't put you on some pedestal--"

"No, but you keep trying to knock me down from it."

Malfoy just sighed, but he didn't deny the comment. "I was watching a Muggle television show—"

"Wait a minute," Harry sat straight up and looked directly at the blond.

"You not only got a hold of a television; a Muggle device, but you used it and did so willingly? This is a red letter day."

Malfoy primly folded his hands in his lap, lifted his chin and looked down his nose at Harry.

"I'm going through my rebellious stage. Besides—" Here he lost some of the high-class pomp and deflated back to a regular sixteen year old. "I've come to the realization that I've believed something my whole life blindly, just because my father told me so. But I know nothing about the supposedly inferior muggles. I mean, how bad can they all actually be if they've managed to live and survive without magic?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at Malfoy, completely prepared to hex the probable imposter.

"What brought about this change in logic?"

Malfoy blushed, and Harry was ready and willing to use the full body bind right then, but the Slytherin sat up and pulled on the cloak of Malfoy regality and superiority.

"That, Potter, is none of your concern. Now, to get back to the point I was trying to make by bringing up this whole topic of conversation. I was watching an American muggle show called Smallville, with Clark Kent and Lex Luther."

"Superman? What does that have to do with anything?'

Malfoy ignored Harry and continued.

"Lex Luther has a compulsive obsession with Clark Kent."

'You're not actually going to compare our cantankerous and volatile relationship to that of Lex Luther and Clark Kent, are you? First off, according to the show, the two started off as friends before they became rivals, and not just rivals, but arch enemies.

"Malfoy, you and I are rivals, we were never friends, but we're not likely to be arch-nemeses. I already have one, and he has a whole host of followers more than willing to take his place."

"All right, but still the correlation is there. Every superhero needs a rival. Right now, you have more than your fair share, and what I'm saying is…I don't want to be one of them anymore."

Harry stared blankly at Malfoy. He was pretty sure that the world had frozen, and then started spinning backwards; and somewhere a tear appeared in the fabric of reality.

"Huh?"

"Clean out your ears, Scar Head. I'm saying I don't want to fight with you. No more trying to get you in trouble, to make you lose points, to kill you during Quidditch, to call you names or anything. Now, I'm not saying we're going to be the best of mates, trading homework notes or hanging out at Hogsmeade. But it should help make your life, and more importantly, my life, less stressful and hectic."

Laughter sounded in the hallway, but it eluded Harry's attention. The very foundation of his world had, once again, been rocked, shaken and quaked. Part of him was relieved at this new revelation; it was one less thing he had to worry about. But a small bit of him would regret the loss of the animosity—if indeed Malfoy's offer of Pax was true.

The door slid open and the laughter got louder.

"Hey Harry, you won't believe—what's he doing here?"

Ron's question was hissed out. From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ron draw his wand and get ready to aim at the blond. Using every bit of Seeker speed he possessed, Harry moved to place himself between Ron and Malfoy. He drew his own wand and pointed it at Ron. He absently noted Hermione's gasp of shock.

"Put your wand a way, Ron. I can handle this myself."

Ron looked quizzically at Harry; he seemed a little hurt. Tightening his grip on his wand, Ron raised it a little higher.

"But Harry, what could—"

"Ron, please, just put your wand away. I promise that before you begin to utter whatever spell you plan, I will curse you myself."

Ron lowered his wand; shock and betrayal colored every plain of his face.

"Harry…" He ignored Hermione's questioning tone and turned to face Malfoy.

The Slytherin was nonchalantly lounging in the seat, one eyebrow raised. For all intents and purposes, he seemed to be doing nothing but watching the scene as if it didn't affect him. But Harry saw the slight tension around his mouth and eyes, the tightness of his shoulders and neck.

"I accept. I honestly don't know if you really want this or if you're playing an angle; frankly I don't care. But I promise if this is a trick, I will come after you with all I have. Then I'll let Ron after you, then Hermione, and anyone else who wants to take a shot. Are we clear?"

Malfoy blinked once and smirked. He stood and brushed his robe off.

"Draco Malfoy." The blond stuck his hand out in a gesture reminiscent of so long ago.

Harry put his want back in his sleeve and reached for Malfoy's hand.

"Harry Potter."


	7. Chapter 7

Harry ignored the strange and betrayed looks Hermione and Ron were shooting him. He refused to answer any questions about what and why, and he ignored the comments too. He only said that this was something he felt needed to be done, and that all things considering, finally getting along with the Malfoy heir was the least of his worries, and was, in fact, a good thing.

Malfoy managed to miss the excitement since he left after The Handshake. Other than Ron and Hermione sulking, the remaining train ride was uneventful. When the trains topped, Harry said goodbye, grabbed his trunk and got off. Almost immediately, and very surprisingly, Malfoy was at his side. Harry didn't question it, but he thought it was the perfect time to break the holiday news.

"Hey, Malfoy?"

"Potter?"

"I don't know if you're already aware, but I'm spending the holidays with you."

If Malfoy was surprised, he didn't show it. He just looked at Harry and said, "In that case, follow me."

So Harry Potter followed Draco Malfoy through the barrier and into King's Cross. The event was guaranteed to start rumors immediately. Ironically, Harry was actually looking forward to hearing what the gossipmongers would come up with.

Lord Malfoy was standing as if he owned the world, completely ignoring the throngs of people, wizard and muggle alike. He gave no indication of noticing anything strange or significant at seeing his son and his bond mate walking together.

"Hello Father."

"Draco."

Harry hung back, not wanting to intrude on such a…prim and cold family reunion. He also had no idea what he should do, or even how he should do it. Luckily, Draco did know.

"Father, I'm sure you know Harry Potter. Harry Potter, this is my father, the Lord Malfoy."

Harry walked forward, more than a little uncertain, and very aware of the many staring witches and wizards.

"Pleased to meet you, sir."

Lord Malfoy inclined his head in acknowledgement.

Draco spoke up, loud enough so those near could hear, but still quiet enough to not be considered shouting.

"You'll be pleased to know, Potter and I have decided to start anew and attempt to get along. We both realize the necessity of creating bonds of friendship in these trying times, and what better place than to start with one's rival?"

And Harry, who was usually so slow at fathoming subtly, caught what was happening. Lucius Malfoy had managed to find a way to get the wizarding world to accept him, or start to, at least. First, he told his son about the bonding, maybe, or at least enough information to know that Harry would become a permanent staple in the Malfoy life. What better way to get mainstream approval than through the son? Whether Malfoy was truly earnest and would follow through with the offer of friendship was inconsequential, but it was the perfect disguise for why Lord Malfoy would be seen in Harry's company. The quintessential Slytherin making friendly with the quintessential Gryffindor. Amazingly subtle and ingenious, not to mention so beautifully done that Harry was in complete awe of the blatant manipulation.

If Harry accepted the Malfoys into the very bosom of the side of Light, so too would the rest of the wizarding world. And since Malfoy…Draco, alluded to Dumbledore by mention something the headmaster said, it practically sealed the deal. What's more, Voldemort would likely believe Lucius was slithering his way into the enemy's camp. It was a completely Slytherin plan, and Harry was sure Salazar himself would be proud.

Harry could not decide whether to laugh or storm off and make a very nasty, very public scene. Thinking that neither option would be wise, Harry just stayed silent and let things play out.

"Most commendable, son. In that case, let us not waste time standing on a platform." Lord Malfoy, with his customary cane in hand, led the way through a crowd of stunned witches and wizards and oblivious muggles. Harry grabbed his trunk and started after, with a signal from Draco. He briefly caught Ron and Hermione's eyes, wincing at the look of intense betrayal on Ron's face. He was a little relieved at Hermione's sympathetic and understanding look.

"Why didn't you lighten your trunk?"

Harry very nearly dropped his trunk at the sudden question from his new 'friend.' He shrugged and answered, "I honestly didn't think of it."

"That is such a Muggle way of thinking." Draco unobtrusively whipped out his wand and Harry's trunk was magically lighter.

"You know, for someone who expressed an interest in things Muggle, maybe you should try things the Muggle way first."

Draco looked offended, then thoughtful.

"You may have a point." The next thing Harry knew, his trunk got heavy, causing him to almost stumble.

"Thanks, but you could have warned me."

A shrug and a reply of "Sorry," was all he got.

Lord Malfoy paused and turned a stern look on the two young men. A raised eyebrow was all the communication they got, but it spoke volumes. Draco hurried along, leaving Harry to lug and tug his trunk. Finally, he stopped, completely fed up. He looked around, then muttered a few words.

The car ride was quiet and tense. The vehicle was, of course, magical in nature and much like the ministry cars Harry had ridden in three years previously. It was quick, as well as tense and quiet. So Harry became introspective. He focused on his breathing, on shoring up his magical and mental barriers. He poked at that odd feeling he'd had since that day in the Great Hall. It was dissonant, almost like poking at a sore tooth. Instinctively, Harry knew it had something to do with Lucius.

Harry went deeper, but was still completely aware of surroundings. He just drifted, enjoying the silence, floating around in his inner magical core.

Harry knew when the car stopped, he heard when Lucius left the vehicle, and he sensed Draco's movement, reveling in the shocked gasp the young blond elicited when Harry grabbed his hand before it could reach Harry's arms.

"Are we there yet?" Harry opened his eyes and looked into Draco's icy grey ones.

Draco quickly composed himself and yanked his hand out of Harry's grasp.

"Yes." The blond gracefully got out of the car. Harry followed, not surprised when he found Lucius' attention focused on him.

Harry's first glance at Malfoy Manor completely stole his breath. He was reminded of his first glimpse at Hogwarts. Malfoy Manor was by not means as large as the school, but it was no less grand or awe inspiring. It was a surprisingly harmonious mixture of medieval gargoyles, Elizabethan symmetry, and gothic towers, with some Greco-Roman classic pillars and statues. It was all at once darkly fearsome, yet softly beautiful; Harry noted it was much like its owner.

A light shove against his arm brought back to the present, only to find Draco standing next to him, actually smiling. Truly smiling.

"It is beautiful, isn't it?"

"Gorgeous."

"Right, let's go inside."

Harry gave Draco a speculative look, wondering at how strangely the blond was acting. He seemed supremely out of character. Deciding not to dwell on Draco's psyche, he just followed the other inside, still completely aware of Lucius Malfoy's eyes trained on him.

If possible, the inside was even more beautiful than the outside. The floors were marble; intricate tapestries hung on the walls; portraits of different Malfoys lined the walls; statues, plants and other expensive, yet tasteful, and art decorated the entrance hall. Harry noted that it could fit the Dursley's house in it twice, with room to spare.

"A house elf will show you to your room, Mr. Potter, and then let you know when dinner will be served. If you have any questions, call for Mustardseed, and she will help you."

With that, Lucius strode away, off to do something that Harry could quite bring himself to care about. Harry turned to Draco and asked one question.

"Mustardseed?"

"That house elf. Supposedly, she belonged to Shakespeare himself. Or rather, her ancestor did."

Harry nodded and followed the small elf to his rooms. They were large, opulent and grand. They were decorated in different shades of blue and trimmed in gold. The bed was large and made of some sort of dark wood; Harry thought it might have been mahogany.

He made a move to empty his trunk, but a scandalized gasp from the quiet house elf stopped him short.

"Master Harry Potter is not to be doing that, Mustardseed is. Master Harry Potter is to ask Mustardseed if he be needing something."

And with that, the little elf started emptying the contents of the trunk and in a flurry, put them all away. Harry watched, bemused, as he was pushed aside by the diminutive elf.

"Master Harry Potter is needing anything else?"

Harry looked at the little elf and smiled slightly.

"You can call me Harry."

The elf looked absolutely horrified.

"Oh, I cannot not be having such freedom as to use a wizard's given name like that."

Harry sighed in exasperation, "Fine, but you don't have to keep saying my full name. If you can't bring yourself to call me just Harry, then just call me sir. I don't want to be called Master."

The elf thought about it, her already wrinkled face scrunching up even more. She seemed to think it a fair compromise when she smiled.

"Mustardseed is able to do that, sir."

"In that case, I think that will be all, thank you, Mustardseed. Just let me know when dinner will be ready."

"Of course, sir."

The elf popped out and Harry found himself alone in a gargantuan room. He looked around and spotted a desk, all his school supplies already out and ready should he feel the urge to do any work. With a sigh, and nothing else to do, Harry decided to get his proper school work out of the way. He had a feeling that Lucius could be a hard and vicious task master and didn't revel in the thought.

An unknown amount of time later, a soft 'pop' heralded the entrance of a house elf. He looked up from his charm's essay to find Mustardseed. He smiled and was pleased when the elf returned it.

"Dinner is to be served in thirty minutes. Mustardseed and Kapper are to be making sure you is ready. Master Lord Malfoy said you are to be dressed and presentable for dinner."

Harry made a face at that. Of course the Malfoys would dress for dinner, even though they weren't going out or anything like that. Harry huffed and decided to go along. He'd muddle through this without making too much of a fuss. He knew it was best to pick one's battles, and if one wasted effort and energy on the small ones, the bigger ones seemed less important. He'd give Lucius this.

"Of course. I leave myself in your capable hands."

Harry wasn't surprised when he saw the wardrobe of clothes, nor was he surprised when he noticed they were all his size. He watched the elves pick out black linen trousers, shiny black dress shoes, and a sapphire shirt he found was made of Egyptian cotton. The elves bought out a pitcher full of scented water, a washcloth and a basin.

After stripping Harry down to his drawers, Kapper used the cloth to wash Harry's arms, neck, shoulders, hands, face and feet. Then Harry was instructed to step into each item of clothing held out for him. Last was a black robe, much like his school robes, only of an obviously better quality. It was soft and gossamer, and when he asked, Harry was told it was made from spiders silk.

His hair was pretty much a lost cause, so the elves mussed it so it resembled more of an organized chaos rather than what it looked like when Harry had just gotten out of bed. When they were finished, five minutes remained until dinner. Harry was led by Mustardseed to the dining room, and entered just as Lucius and Draco did the same. They, too, were dressed to the nines, something that didn't surprise Harry in the least, most, or anything in between.

"I'm pleased you made it on time. Punctuality is a key aspect in this household, and dinner is held at half-six every evening. I see you have also dressed properly. That is also necessary if you wish to eat."

With that, Lucius stood behind the chair situated to the right of the head of the table and pulled it out. He gave Harry a look and after the Gryffindor sat, he pushed the chair in. Harry was thrown at the display of such courteous and chivalrous manners. Harry slanted a look at Lucius and saw a flash of amusement in his eyes. Was he mocking Harry with the thoughtfulness? The dynamics of their relationship may be different then before, but that didn't mean Lucius had to mock him. Besides, Harry felt like a bloody girl.

Dinner was a quiet affair with only the most perfunctory and succinct of questions and answers. The food, however, was absolutely delicious. It could easily rival Hogwarts' best feast any day. Afterwards, Lucius got up and indicated that Harry and Draco should follow him.

The two youths were led to a study. Harry was surprised as its inviting warmth and welcoming. The desk and cluttered but not messy, a fire was roaring in the hearth, and cushy and comfortable looking chairs and a love seat were situated in front of the desk.

Lucius went to a cupboard and removed three glasses. In two he poured a dark liquid, and in the third went an amber liquid. He handed the two darker liquid glasses to Harry and Draco. Harry took a cautious sip and found he liked the taste. He sipped more deeply.

"Careful, Potter. That's port and as it's homemade, there's no way to accurately control the alcohol content."

Harry nodded at Draco's warning and took smaller sips.

"I've brought both of you in here so we could discuss Harry's training and education while he is here this winter. I want to know exactly what Harry knows regarding the wizarding world and the proper education of a pure-blood. That way we'll know how much work we have cut out for us."

Harry looked down into his glass, not exactly excited about this. Lucius and Draco would know just how lacking he was in knowledge about wizarding culture. Sure, he was at a distinct disadvantage due to living for ten years with Muggles, and that lack of education had not been remedied, so far, during his time at Hogwarts.

"I assume you don't know how to read or write in Latin." It wasn't a question, but Harry felt the need to answer in any case.

"No, sir, nothing more than the spells we've learned at school."

"We'll fix that, then. As well as French, Italian, and Spanish. You'll learn history and traditions. You'll learn to dance properly. Your table manners aren't a complete loss, but they could use some refining."

Harry could feel himself paling at all the extra schooling he'd have to go through all because he was the bond mate of a Malfoy.

"You're quiet, Potter."

Harry looked up at Draco, not really seeing the young blond, but he answered the implied question regardless.

"I understand the need to keep up appearances and such while I'm being associated with a Malfoy, but I can't help but feel as if I'm being penalized for a something beyond my control. And no, don't look at me like that, I'm not whining, I'm just stating how I feel. I know that I lack the knowledge of one who grew up in the wizarding world, but I had nothing to do with that. I didn't even know the wizarding world existed until I got my Hogwarts letter.

"I'm not making excuses, I'm just letting you know to be prepared that I may not learn everything as quickly as you'd like, Lord Malfoy. I will try my hardest. But know this, my Hogwarts education comes first, and the battle with Voldemort comes second. If this extra tutoring gets in the way of either of those things, then it will be the first to go."

Lucius didn't look happy, but he nodded his head in ascension. He gave a quick look to Draco that Harry wasn't able to interpret. Harry ignored it and instead answered Lucius' nod with a heartfelt, "Thank you."

Draco placed his glass down on the desk and got up to leave.

"Good night, Father, Potter. I'll see you both tomorrow."

"Good night, Draco."

Harry watched the exchange, noticing how formal father and son were. It didn't seem right to him. Even the Dursleys were more human in their interaction with one another.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow, Malfoy."

The younger Malfoy left the study and Harry was left alone with Lucius Malfoy. Suddenly, he found he very much wanted the addition of Draco.

Clearing his throat a bit, Harry spoke up.

"Have you enlightened Draco as to the true nature of our relationship? He didn't seem particularly surprised about me spending Christmas here."

Lucius swirled his glass, studying the amber liquid. The Incubus in him was very awake with the nearness of its mate. He hadn't had any contact with Harry outside of letters since their meeting all that time ago. He didn't want any interruptions from an overzealous and over protective prude of a teacher; he wanted the safety and freedom of his home to be in such close contact with Harry. The boy's nervousness was intoxicating.

On the ride to the house, he had been blissfully drowning in Harry's emotions when suddenly everything shut down. It wasn't like a block was put up; it was as if Harry was just an empty shell, not feeling anything. It was very disconcerting for Lucius as well as for the Incubus. It wanted to rise up and fight whatever threat might be there to cause its mate to withdraw so deeply.

It was only when Harry had caught Draco's hand that Lucius fully relaxed. Harry was fine, he'd just gone deep inside himself. He'd have to question the boy on that ability. It was fascinating, and potentially problematic to his Incubus.

Dinner was quiet and tense, but that wasn't surprising. And the foray into the study was…interesting to say the least. Harry was attempting to control his feelings, which was both annoying and gratifying.

Lucius understood Harry's concerns about the extracurricular studies he wanted to put him through.

Suddenly, Lucius seemed to realize Harry asked him a question. He took a sip of his brandy and pinned Harry with an intense gaze.

"I haven't, yet, informed Draco of the exact nature of our relationship. I plan on doing so when it becomes more of an issue."

Harry nodded as if he just confirmed something, and then pinned Lucius with a calculating stare.

"I want to applaud your performance at the train station today. And Draco, of course. I must say, it was most definitely worthy of a Slytherin."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, but didn't deny anything.

"You've told Draco enough, but not everything. It was a wonderful way to diffuse any questions as to why you'd be seen in my company, to ensure favorable feelings from the wizarding world, as well as to keep Voldemort off balance."

Lucius didn't let anything show on his face, but he was surprised that Harry had cottoned onto the plan, and done it so quickly.

"I'm sure, when the Dark Lord asks why you'd allow your son and only heir to befriend me, you'll say something like you're manipulating my naiveté and intrinsic nature to forgive and forget against me, lulling me into a false sense of complacency, using Draco to infiltrate the enemy's camp, as it were. Gain my trust and exploit it against me. And I'm sure you'll phrase it in such a way that Voldemort will come to think it was his plan all along, therefore gaining you a night without punishment, not to mention, you'll receive praise and recognition from the Dark Lord."

Lucius narrowed his eyes at the young Gryffindor, but didn't say anything to either confirm or deny the boy's suspicions. Granted, he wasn't far off the mark with many of his observations, but Lucius was decidedly uncomfortable with the boy's astuteness. This was nothing like the impulsive, rash Gryffindor the Dark Lord complained about; and he was nothing like the brainless clone of James Potter that Severus made him sound to be. No, he was something completely different.

Harry almost smirked. Although he had no visual indication, he knew Lucius was thrown off balance by his words. He felt amazingly accomplished. He knew it was a rare occurrence indeed to stump Lucius Malfoy. So, Harry would revel in the feeling for as long as it might last.

The smug pride radiating off of Potter annoyed Lucius, but he wouldn't do anything about it now. He'd put the foolish Gryffindor in his place at a time least expected.

"There are some ground rules you must know of first. You may have free reign of the house with the exception of any doors that are locked. You may not enter those. The third floor of the north wing is off limits and is warded appropriately. We will begin your training tomorrow. The house elves will get you up at 7:30 A.M. They will inform you as to the normal schedules of this house. I expect you to follow the rules while you are here, Mr. Potter."

"Is there a list of rules somewhere? I wouldn't want to inadvertently break one."

Lucius didn't say anything, just continued to drink his brandy. Not long after, Harry was led back to his rooms. He was surprised to find that he felt comfortable in Lucius' company. The thought that feeling comfortable wouldn't be a usual occurrence was Harry's last before going to sleep.

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I would like to take the time to thank everyone who has reviewed. All your kind words and encouragement have really helped me. Thank you for taking the time to drop me a line, and I hope you all continue to do so.

Jemi


	8. Chapter 8

**_Alright, this chapter introduces two new characters that aren't necessarily Original Characters, but aren't Harry Potter canon either. They don't have big parts, but they do have important parts. The two characters are actually from two different fandoms, both of which I like. I won't straight out tell which two they belong to, but I'll hint. They are both from Japanese Mangas, both were wildly popular, and both were also turned into Anime. Thanks and enjoy._**

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It was three days until Christmas and Harry had absolutely no idea what to get the two Malfoy men. He only had those two to worry about since he'd already gotten Ron and Hermione's presents. Ron was going to receive a Chudley Canon's poster, which just happened to be signed by the entire team. It was the one time Harry had felt absolutely no guilt in using his name to get something.

Hermione was going to be delighted when she opened her gift. For once, Harry didn't get her a book. Instead he got her a set of dragon bone runes for Arithmancy. Dragon bone runes were infused with dragon magic, which helped to ensure more accurate results. Because they were made of dragon bone, they were rare and borderline illegal. Thankfully, he had also included a note of explanation from Charlie, outlining that the dragon died of natural causes, and that she had given permission in some obscure dragon way, and her body may be used to bring joy, love, learning and fulfillment to another.

Mrs. Weasley would get a muggle cookbook; Mr. Weasley would receive a calculator; Fred and George would get a whoopee cushion and Ginny would get a diary, with the sincere promise that it was not possessed. But going through the list of gifts he'd gotten others was not going to help solve the problem of what he was going to give to Lucius and Draco Malfoy.

True to his word, Draco was not antagonistic towards Harry; but they also weren't exactly friends. It was more of an impersonal acquaintance, and Harry found that he didn't like distance, especially after a public declaration of friendship. The thing was, the bits that he'd seen of Draco's personality he'd found to be very likable. He was vain, but not overwhelmingly so, as Draco would portray at school. He wasn't nearly as selfish either. He was smart, as proved when he'd helped Harry with those blasted lessons….

_"Not bad, Potter. Although, this says 'I was conquered.' You might want to change that. Depending on whom you're speaking with, that may not be received the way you want."_

_Harry raised an eyebrow in a close approximation of the Malfoy men._

_"And why do I have to learn conversational Latin, anyway? Who's there to converse with in Latin, anyway?"_

_Draco finished making corrections to Harry's paper, remarking on how few there were before he answered Harry's questions._

_"You're learning because Father said so. And he said so because you really need to learn it. And, while you may not actually converse in Latin, the point is, you _could_ do so. It's a way to prove you're better than others."_

_Harry looked pained at that proclamation. "I don't want to prove I'm better than anyone else. That would make me even more different than I already am."_

_Draco looked at Harry very seriously. "Potter…Harry, you _are_ different from everybody else. I know you don't want to be, but until you come to terms and accept, embrace, those differences, you'll forever be ruining yourself._

_"Do you think your attempts to be just like Weasley are helping any? You're not Ronald Weasley, so you can't act like him. Doing so makes you stand out. In fact, I think the only times you're really Harry Potter, are when you're on a broom, or fighting bad guys."_

_Harry processed what Draco said, and he grudgingly found that it made sense. So, instead, he sent a sly look to Draco._

_"You're father seems very intent on making me a Malfoy clone. Since I shouldn't act like something I'm not, does that mean I can stop with the Latin?" Maybe the hopeful tone in his voice wasn't _completely_ feigned._

_Draco pointedly pushed Harry's Latin book and paper towards him._

_"The gaining of knowledge and betterment of one's self is always acceptable. That includes conversational Latin."_

_Harry smiled ruefully and said, "I figured you'd say something like that. But I had to try."_

_Draco smirked and stood up to leave. When he reached the door, he paused and turned back towards Harry. _

_"You are doing remarkably well, Potter, especially considering your background. If you tell anyone about that compliment, I'll hex you six ways to Sunday."_

_"I wouldn't dream of it. Then I'd have to admit to doing something to warrant it."_

_Draco nodded, but seemed to want to add something. After some sort of internal debate, he seemed to finally come to a decision._

_"You shouldn't be forced to learn Malfoy history unless you want to. I doubt Father would see it that way, but I will speak with him. Maybe suggest you learn the Potter family history, or maybe even the Black's."_

_Harry's eyes lit up at that. He'd love to learn more about his father and Sirius. He turned to Draco with a beatific smile._

_"Thank you."_

_Without waiting for a response, Harry turned back to his Latin. After all, he still had French and Dance before he had to ready himself for dinner..._

Draco never had a chance to ask his father because that evening, during dinner, Lucius was called away. Draco seemed bewildered, but the twinge from his scar told Harry exactly where the Lord Malfoy was going. That had been two days ago. The day after tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and Harry didn't know what to get Lucius or Draco.

Harry wandered into the library. Hermione would have a mental orgasm from the sheer number of books alone, never mind the topics of said books.

An inkling of an idea started niggling in the back of Harry's brain. As he perused the titles, the idea grew and grew. When Harry finally walked out of the library, his smile split his face in halt it was so large. He knew what to get Draco. That was how Draco found him.

"What has you so happy, Potter?"

Harry shrugged and ignored the question. "I need to make a call."

"Isn't it a bit late for that?"

"He'll make an exception. This person likes me."

Draco narrowed his eyes, but motioned Harry to follow him. They reached a considerably bare room, which ensured that the person receiving the call wouldn't know it was from Malfoy Manor. Draco handed Harry the powder, but otherwise made no signs of leaving.

"Could you go to my room and bring me the black bag that's hidden under my pillow?"

Draco looked ready to protest, most likely about having to do something a house elf should do, but stopped when he saw the look in Harry's eyes. With a sharp nod, Draco left, his parting words, "You'll owe me."

Harry rolled his eyes and readied his fire call. Sticking his head into the fire, a sensation Harry never enjoyed, he called out a name, "Li."

"Ah, Mr. Harry Potter. What warrants such a visit, especially this late?"

Harry smiled ruefully at the man. It was someone he'd met in a dark alley in Hogsmeade. He was a foreigner from the Far East. He was mysterious and dark and, if possible, snarkier than Snape.  
"I require a book. That one you were talking about in your last letter, in fact."

Li made a surprised, but pleased sounding hum.

"I did not think you would be interested in it. What made you change your mind?"

Harry hesitated only a second before telling. Li was powerful, but in a different and obscure way Harry didn't understand. He seemed far more ancient than anyone Harry knew, Dumbledore included.

"It is to be a gift for an individual who could appreciate and understand it far better than I ever could."

Even though Harry's head was in the fire and Li was cloaked in darkness, he had the feeling Li was looking through him, into him. It was similar to what Dumbledore could, only more intense, more invasive.

Li nodded his head and answered, "I require something in return."

Harry hid his smile. "Of course, I would have been surprised otherwise."

Right then, Draco came back with the little black pouch Harry wanted.

"This had better be worth it, Potter."

Harry just smirked and took the pouch.

"Alright, Li, tell me the price."

Li's accented voice carried into the room, causing Draco to narrow his eyes.

"Mr. Harry Potter, all I ask is for a memory of yours, locked in a single drop of your blood."

Draco gasped in surprise, but Harry ignored it. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. The giving of blood was an intimate, serious and sacred thing. The ritual Voldemort had performed and his mother's sacrifice proved that. But adding a memory to it—first off, he didn't know how that would work, and he had no idea why Li would need or want it.

"I don't suppose you'd tell me why, would you?"

An amused chuckle and a noise in the negative was his answer.

Harry nodded and thought about it. In instances like this, he relied on his instincts. They wouldn't lead him astray, so long as he kept his brain out of it long enough to be sure. No warning bells were ringing and nothing seemed off.

"I agree."

"Harry, no!"

Harry turned to Draco, shocked to see what appeared to be fear on the blonde's face. The use of his given name proved just how fearful Draco was.

"Draco." There was only a bit of a warning in Harry's tone.

"No, Harry. You shouldn't give your blood. He could use it in some sort of Dark Ritual. Nothing good could come from this."

Harry was touched by Draco's concern. Could it be that his offer of friendship was true?

"I know, believe me, I know. But Draco, please let me do this. It's important."

"When Father finds out, Potter…"

Draco left the threat hanging, really not needing to finish it.

"He won't find out from you, will he Malfoy? When he finds out, it will be from me."

Draco's surprise at hearing Harry say he'd let Lucius know effectively shut him up. Harry turned back to the fire, thanking Li for his patience.

"Tell me how to infuse a drop of my blood with a memory. And is there any particular memory you want?"

"There is a short spell you need to chant while you gather the drop, and you must continue chanting it while picking the memory. And, I'd like it to be a good and pleasant memory. You'll pluck it out of your brain like you would for a penseive."

Harry nodded and listened to the spell, which was very short and simple. Then he rummaged through his memory for a pleasant one, discarding one after the other before settling on one. With a smile, he took the bag and took out a small, sharp knife as well as a bottle filled with liquid.

He pricked his finger and dropped one drop of blood in it. He and Draco watched as it instantly hardened.

"It looks like a ruby. How?"

Harry just winked and smiled, and infused the memory. He closed the lid and concentrated very carefully. The liquid bubbled for a moment before it stopped. Harry heaved a heavy sigh and smiled in pleasure.

"Here you are, Li. Do good things with it. I'll expect the package to be delivered by tomorrow afternoon, no later than 2:30. And please, discretion is advised."

"Of course, Mr. Harry Potter. Thank you."

"Thank you, Li, and I apologize for the lateness of the call."

Li's voice faded with a slight echo. "Any time Mr. Harry Potter, anytime."

Harry put the knife away after cleaning it, and closed the bag. Then he healed his finger of the small knick.

"You're mental, you know that, right? I mean, you give out your blood, wonky in and of itself, but you do it through the fire to a veritable stranger. And you don't think it's a big deal? What could be so important that you would do that?"  
Harry took a deep breath and looked at Draco.

"I'm aware of the risks, more fully aware than you know. But you have to trust that I believe the risks to be acceptable. This is important to me, Draco. Please, let it be."

Draco didn't look pleased and was very clear about it. "Fine, but I want to be there when you tell Father."

Harry sighed, then nodded, not welcoming the moment when he'd tell Lord Malfoy about the call.

"Tomorrow, when the package is delivered, I'll tell your father, I promise."

"I suppose I should be glad he only asked for blood. It could have been worse, you know."

Harry stood up and walked to the door. "How so?"

"He could have asked for semen."

Harry made a face of pure disgust. "Never would have happened. I was not going to wank with you in the room and definitely not while on a fire call. You, Malfoy, are sick and twisted."

Harry opened the door and was almost out of the room when Draco stopped him.

"What was the memory?"

Harry debated telling, but eventually decided he could do so.

"The first time Molly Weasley hugged me." Harry immediately left the room.

The next morning, Harry was awakened by a house elf squeaking that he had to get up; Lord Malfoy wanted to see him. Harry grumbled but got up, watching in bemusement as the elf—Mustardseed, got his clothes ready.

These clothes fit and were very well-made. Of course, they would have to be, seeing as how the Malfoys' own tailor made them. The thing was, Harry felt the trousers were too dressy and stiff for his tastes. The shirts were fine and weren't all silk, as he'd first feared. Most were button down, but all were collared.

When Harry was deemed ready, he made his way to the study, the same one he had been in the first night he arrived. He felt like a student sent to see the principal, which was absurd as he'd done nothing wrong. Except, of course, make a fire call and give his blood away. But still, he shouldn't feel as if he was caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. The point of his coming to Malfoy manor was to get to know Lucius. That would have been easier if Lucius was actually present; and if he'd stop handing out assignments like some overly eager teacher.

Harry reached the study and had a short fantasy about barging in, then slouching down in one of the chairs and placing his feet on the desk. The remembrance of the fact that it was Lucius Malfoy he was going to see curbed any such notions.

So, Harry knocked and entered after receiving permission. He walked in, not really surprised to see Draco, but truly surprised to see Snape. His reaction must have shown on his face, because the dour man grinned nastily. Harry ignored him. He looked around and noticed there were no seats left, so he took out his wand and drew himself a chair. He'd seen the headmaster do it and set out to learn how to do it himself. Unfortunately, Harry was no artist, so it was a simple chair, though a serviceable one. Harry decided he liked it.

Only after sitting down did he give his full attention to the three other occupants of the room. Draco looked amused, Snape most definitely wasn't, and Lucius, well, there was no telling what he was feeling or thinking.

"Your studies seem to be going well. According to Draco, you've picked up the languages easily enough, even if you despair at having to learn them. You're dancing is sketchy, as you've no coordination, and you've not even begun to learn the Malfoy family history."

Harry didn't say anything, but he did slant a look towards Draco.

"About that, Father. Harry understands how important the history of one's own family is, therefore, I suggest that before undertaking the learning of the Sly and Cunning House of Malfoy, perhaps he should learn about the Strong and Good House of Potter, and the Proud House of Black. How can he fully appreciate someone else's history when he doesn't even fully know his own?"

Harry didn't say anything; he just looked levelly at Lucius, hoping his expression gave nothing away.

"Very well. He may learn the histories of the Potters' and the Blacks', but during the summer, he will learn the Malfoy history. Is that acceptable, Mr. Potter?"

Harry was vaguely surprised at the inquiry, but nodded nonetheless.

"Good. Next order of business, would you care to explain your fire call last evening, Mr. Potter?"

Harry tried not to squirm at the air of expectancy in the question, or at the looks Lucius and Snape gave him. The only consolation he got was that Draco looked as uncomfortable as Harry felt. Harry didn't say anything; instead he waited for Lucius to further expand his question.

"I am aware of all fire calls made in this house. A list is provided every time one is made. I don't recognize the name or address, however. Explain."

When Harry didn't say anything, Lucius sighed.

"If you don't wish to tell me, so be it. As of today, all of your fire calls will be monitored by me. They will not last more than fifteen minutes and must be made before 7:00 P.M., and I have to approve whomever you call."

Harry nodded and took morbid satisfaction when his easy acquiescence seemed to annoy Lucius. A sudden POP! surprised everyone in the room, though only Draco and Harry jumped.

"Mustardseed is sorry, Master Lord Malfoy, but Mr. Harry Potter sir is received a package from the fire."

Harry looked at Draco, then at Lucius and Snape. Snape's eyes were glinting in a very uncomfortable manner.

"Bring it to me."

Harry tensed, only to marginally relax when he saw Li had wrapped the package in plain brown wrapping. Lucius took the package and inspected it thoroughly without actually opening it. Lucius frowned when he found he couldn't open it. He looked at Harry. He demanded, "Open it, Mr. Potter."

Harry's jaw tightened and he bit out, "No!"

Lucius' eyes turned a tempestuous grey, though his face showed no difference, and when he spoke, his voice was very calm and controlled. He stood up and walked to Harry, causing the young man to tilt his head back. He gulped when Lucius' hand wrapped itself around his neck, much like he did at the school. The only thing that stopped Harry from fleeing was the fact that Lucius' hand was gentle, and that his thumb unconscious rubbed against Harry's pulse.

"That was not a request, Mr. Potter."

"It's Draco's Christmas present." Harry's voice was sullen, revealing just how much he didn't want to reveal.

Draco sat up and looked angrily at Harry, causing the young Gryffindor to wince, guessing what was coming. He really wanted to get away from Lucius.

"You paid for my Christmas gift in blood?"

Harry groaned and wrenched himself away from Lucius. He suspected that the only reason he was able to get out of the hold was because of the older man's surprise at the announcement.

"I would have thought that, even you, Mr. Potter, would possess a modicum of sense to know how idiotic it would be to give one's blood to someone else. It appears I was wrong. You deserve whatever will undoubtedly happen to you because of your actions."

Harry glared at his professor, sick and tired of the insults and put downs, and fed up with people's lack of faith in him. He was better than what everyone gave him credit for. His anger spurred his words, regardless of whom they were directed at.

"Give me a break, Snape. Believe it or not, I know the risks and dangers of giving my blood." Here he looked pointedly at Lucius before continuing. "I put an unbreakable charm on the bottle, along with a nifty little spell that ensures no harm comes to me."

At everyone's continued stares, Harry let a self-satisfied smirk slide across his face.

"If someone's intent is to cause me harm, the bottle and blood inside will explode, hopefully harming whoever wished to hurt me. If, however, the person's intentions aren't malicious towards me, in any way, shape, or form, then he can open the bottle."

Harry made sure his next glare included everyone, making sure they all knew he was unhappy, and they all knew the import of his next words.

"Furthermore, I happen to trust Li, if not completely, enough to know he wouldn't hurt me. Which is more than I can say for the occupants of this room."

Harry went back to his chair and sat down, crossed his arms and with his eyes, dared anyone to contradict him.

Lucius watched Harry, amazed at the feelings pouring off the boy. The Incubus practically purred in contentment. After the fast it had been forced to endure for the past few days, Harry was a banquet spread out for its enjoyment.

He despaired of the boy's seeming lack of self-preservations, especially over a Christmas present. But he had to admit, he was impressed with Harry's sense to protect the container of blood. It was sly and underhanded, both qualities Lucius whole-heartedly approved of. Lucius could also admit, if only to himself, that the flush of anger and defiance on Harry's cheeks was very becoming, especially when paired with the electrical sparking green of his eyes.

Lucius decided to ignore the proclamation of the lack of trust Harry had in him, chiefly since his Incubus didn't like that thought. Its mate was supposed to feel safest in its presence.

"What item could possibly be worth your blood?" Lucius made sure to keep his question gentle instead of demanding. He knew that right then that Harry couldn't be forced to corporate.

"A gift for someone I consider a friend." The words were muttered and barely audible, but everyone heard them.

Harry stubbornly refused to look anywhere but at his own lap. Lucius noticed the look of complete surprise on his son's face, as well as noticing how it turned into a pleased smile.

"Mr. Potter, we are going in circles. What gift did you…buy?"

"No, Snape, I'm not telling anyone what the gift is while Draco is in the room. When he leaves, then I _might_ tell you, but until then, you'll just have to deal."

Snape stood up and made to reach for Harry, but Lucius made a warning sound in the back of his throat. He'd still not fed properly, but just being in Harry's presence calmed the Incubus. However, with a threat towards its mate, it could not be easily placated.

"Draco, leave." The command in Lucius' voice would have made even the Dark Lord feel compelled to obey; Draco never stood a chance. He immediately got up and left the room, giving a last, sympathetic glace to Harry.

"Now, Mr. Potter, you will open the gift."

Harry turned mutinous eyes on Lucius, clearly not intending to open the package.

"On two conditions."

Lucius only raised an eyebrow in response, but he was internally curious to know what the conditions would be. It seemed that young Harry Potter was a lesson in contradictions.

"My name is Harry. And that goes for you too, Snape. For as long as you two call me Mr. Potter, I'll either be a reminder of my father," here he looked at Severus— "or some separate, impersonal being who isn't truly real. If you continue to disassociate yourself from me, how can you possibly hope to fully and completely finish the bonding you started weeks ago?"

Lucius was surprised enough that Harry knew about the bond that he let it show before he hastily his behind his mask. He fumed at Harry's knowing smirk. But Lucius knew the boy wasn't going to reveal how he knew without being asked, just like Harry knew Lucius wasn't going to ask. Instead, he focused on the condition.

"Of course." He had no intention of offering the same liberty for Harry to use his given name. It seemed Harry recognized this, also. His smirk got bigger.

"Professor, I don't expect you to actually call me Harry, but just know you can. The past belongs in the past, and if you're not willing to leave it there and learn from it, you'll never really move forward and truly live."

"How dare you—" Lucius had his wand pointed at his long time friend before he even realized he'd moved. Severus looked shocked, but no more so than Lucius felt. Harry, for his part, just froze.

"Harry, stop antagonizing Severus. While understandable, it is childish and unbecoming. And Severus, you will not do anything to harm Harry. Especially not when he's right. Now, I suggest we hear Harry's second condition before we can open that package."

When all three were once again seated, Lucius realized that he couldn't sense Harry's feelings anymore. Just like that time at Hogwarts, the boy had managed to completely block the Incubus. He'd have to figure out how the infuriating Gryffindor managed to do it.

"Why do you want to open the package? You'll see it on Christmas along with Draco, so why not wait until then?"

"Is that the second condition? To answer the questions?" Harry nodded.

"I won't let anything in my house that could harm my child. If your gift is in anyway harmful towards Draco, I will find a way to destroy it. Then, I will deal with you."

Harry smiled at the answer, a response which confused Lucius. Why was the boy smiling? What possible reason could there be for it? He hadn't said anything any halfway decent parent wouldn't have.

"Then you may open the package."

Lucius gave Harry a very droll look. "If I had been able to do it beforehand, I would have. That is why I asked you to open it."

Harry frowned and looked intently at the plain brown package. His frown became more confused before it blossomed into an amused and pleased smile.

"Li put a protection spell on the package that allows no one but me to open it." So saying, Harry got up and reached for the parcel. Lucius watched avidly, his Incubus wanting nothing more than to touch, to feel, to claim, to own, to feed, now that its mate was so near, and of his own accord.

A book. Harry had gotten Draco a book? There was a whole library full of books; books that were written in different languages, big books, small books, dark books and light books. Some weren't even books, but scrolls. What possible reason could Harry have had for getting Draco a book?

"Look closer, Lord Malfoy." Lucius' gaze shot to Harry, wondering how the boy had known what he was thinking, but decided to ignore the question and, instead, do as Harry instructed. He looked at the book. It looked different than any he'd seen before.

"The book is bound in chimera skin, which means, it damn near indestructible. It is very old and protected by Chinese dragon magic, further strengthening it. It is supposedly a book of Hoc Toa, containing a whole range of ancient Chinese spells; some thought to be lost. The magic outlined in this book is different from any that we're taught at Hogwarts. As there are also potions in that book, I thought Draco might like it."

Harry finished off a little insecurely, but Lucius didn't notice. He was looking at the book. He'd heard of it, but it was rumored to have been destroyed, or a myth. It was full of dark magics, folk magics, as well as all other manner of magics. That fact that Harry had found one…it was unbelievable. It was a book he'd wanted for his own collection.

A Chinese dragon was on the front, exquisite and detailed enough to look real. Its eyes seemed to actually _see_ Lucius. He believed the book was somehow alive; it fairly hummed in his hands. He looked up at Harry, seeing the embarrassed flush on the boy's face, the hunch of his shoulders, and the expectation that the gift would be rejected.

"I think Draco will love the book."

Harry smiled at that, but was uncomfortable receiving praise or comfort from Lucius, especially in front of Snape. Speaking of…

"Why's Snape here?"

Harry's sudden question caused two sets of eyes to focus on him, both similar in their intensity, but different in their coloring.

"What concern is it of yours who I invite into my house, Harry?"

Lucius watched Harry shrug in an unconcerned manner, as if he didn't care one way or the other if his question was answered. Lucius was starting to get frustrated. At times, it seemed as if Harry was the epitome of a Gryffindor—brave, reckless and free with his emotions. At other times, the boy was proud, secretive, sly and manipulative, with a tightly held leash on his emotions.

The Harry Potter about whom he'd heard from Severus was self-centered and sneaky, but possessing no brain. From the Dark Lord, he'd heard that Harry Potter was lucky and a growing inconvenience, and according to Draco, Harry always got preferential treatment. Lucius was beginning to believe Harry was all of those things, but only because that's what he projected; what he knew people wanted to see.

"Fine, don't tell me about the Death Eater gathering. I'm sure I'll find out in any case, sooner or later." It was such a non-sequitor that it confused Lucius.

Severus was glaring at the boy, but he also seemed resigned about something. Lucius just wanted to know how the boy knew about the meeting.

"If you have nothing further to say, may I be excused? I have more Latin to do and I'd like to rewrap Draco's present."

Lucius almost denied the boy permission to leave, but that would have been petty, and besides, it would mainly be the Incubus' desire. He wasn't going to give in to it.

"I will see you at dinner. We shall see how well you've remembered proper table etiquette."

"Please, Lucius, his best friend is Ronald Weasley. How high do you think Potter places table manners on his list of important things?"

If Severus' goal was to get a rise out of Harry, he was doomed to disappointment. Harry turned a bored face to his professor, though his eyes were glittering strangely, mesmerizing Lucius. He felt a strange twinge, a feeling he couldn't quite explain. The closest he could come was that something seemed to click into place. He just didn't know what.

Lucius studied Harry and realized the boy was unnaturally still, and was concentrating unusually intensely on his breathing. An undignified yelp from Severus jerked Lucius' attention away from Harry, but not before he saw the ghost of a smile cross Harry's face.

Lucius looked at Severus and had to suppress his own smile. The dour man was standing up, rubbing his bum and glaring daggers at Harry. Apparently, the boy goosed Severus, not that Lucius blamed him. Severus had asked for it by insulting the Weasley boy.

With one last look and a smirk towards Lucius, Harry grabbed the book and left the study. For the first time since Harry had come to the manor, Lucius relaxed.

"How did you sleep last night, Severus?"

The man turned his glare towards Lucius at his jovial tone.

"The same as I usually am after attending a gathering."

Lucius nodded at the non-answer that answered everything. Lucius had trouble sleeping after the gatherings. More so now, since learning Harry was the Incubus' mate than before. It was difficult to even pretend to serve a creature whose sole intent was to murder someone who, on an instinctual level, Lucius recognized as mate. It made his life very complicated.

"What do you think of Harry's gift to Draco?"

Lucius waited patiently for the answer. He didn't really know how he felt; and the feelings he did recognize, he didn't want to acknowledge.

"I'm surprised Potter would get such a gift for someone who, until a week ago, he loathed. That book is beyond priceless, yet the boy managed to get it for nothing more than a drop of blood--a payment that would turn the stomach of any decent wizard. Harry Potter willingly gave it."

"But he took precautions against the potentially harmful misuse of his blood." Lucius decided to play devil's advocate to Severus.

Severus waved away the point, saying, "That just goes to prove his over-confident tendencies. That boy needs to learn the definition of self-preservation."

Lucius didn't immediately say anything, but he did find it ironic that Severus should call upon Harry's lack of self-preservation when Severus, himself, often ran directly into danger. Sometimes Severus showed very Gryffindor-ish tendencies, an occurrence that greatly amused, and greatly worried Lucius.

"How do you think Draco will respond to the gift?"

"I loathe to admit it, but I believe that Draco will consider Potter a friend for real, as opposed to just for show, now."

Lucius bit back a laugh, knowing to do so would just further anger his friend. Lucius got up and walked to his liquor cabinet, passing behind Severus on the way. He let his hand trail through the man's long hair, and across the back of Severus' neck, delighting in the responding shivers. Lucius grinned at the look Severus sent him, at the heat and lust contained in that onyx gaze.

Harry spent the rest of the day wondering what to get Lucius. The man was rich enough to get himself anything, so what was left for Harry to give him?

During his ponderings, Harry didn't notice where he was going. It was so simple to lose one's way in the manor, and Harry did just that. When he finally became aware of his surroundings, he realized that he'd wandered into a very unfamiliar area. It looked distinctly feminine.

The walls were a soft, calming butter yellow with sky blue trim. The hall led to three doors. Harry couldn't open the first one, not could he open the second door. Therefore, he turned to the third and caught wind of an enticing scent. It smelled of pina coladas. Harry didn't know anyone was living in this part of the house.

Harry reached out to the third door, and shivered as he felt something pass through him, recognize him. Harry stepped inside the room and was immediately enveloped in comfortable warmth. It was the same kind of warmth Harry attributed to Mrs. Weasley; it was something maternal.

The room was distinctly feminine without being frilly. The colors were soft and calming: rose pinks, sky blues, and sea greens. There wasn't an overabundance of flowers or knick-knacks. The room gave off the air of being welcoming and inviting.

A soft tinkling laugh sounded, catching Harry's attention. He craned his neck, looking for the sound, but he didn't see anyone.

"Hello, is anyone there?"

The laugh sounded again, and Harry spun to face the direction it came from. He didn't see anyone, but he found himself facing the portrait of a beautiful woman. Her eyes were piercing baby blue; her face a healthy cream color with a very becoming blush on her cheeks. Her hair was as golden as the sun. Harry stood speechless before the portrait.

"Are you going to stare at me all day, or are you going to introduce yourself?" Her voice was light and clear with a hint of amused teasing.

"Harry Potter." Harry's response was automatic; he was so stunned that such an ethereally beautiful creature was addressing him.

"Well, Harry Potter, what brings you to my rooms? It's been ages since anyone has entered here."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, I didn't mean to intrude." The woman started laughing before Harry even finished speaking. Harry couldn't find it in him to be anything but cheerful, even if the woman in the portrait _was_ laughing at him.

"Oh, Harry Potter, if I hadn't wanted you in here, I wouldn't have allowed you in. Now, why don't you tell me what you _are_ doing here?"

Harry shyly looked down and mumbled, "I wasn't paying attention and I got lost."

"You are precious. Well, don't worry, Harry, I'm glad for your company. My childe never bothers to visit me any longer."

Harry must have looked as confused as he felt, because the woman laughed and answered the unasked question.

"Lucius. Surely you know of him as you are in his house." It was a statement, not a question.

Harry smiled ruefully and answered, "I know him."

"I sense a story there. Sit down and make yourself comfortable, and tell me all about it."

Harry looked at the woman, not really seeing that much of a Malfoy resemblance. He was amused, and more than a little, worried at how similar the woman was to Molly Weasley. Both were maternal, sweet, and caring. Harry liked the woman in the portrait, but couldn't quite reconcile the fact that this woman was related to Lucius. It boggled the mind.

"What's your name? I can't keep calling you, or rather, thinking of you, as the Lady in the Portrait."

"Selene."

"All right, Selene. Here's the story of how I know Lucius."

For an indeterminate amount of time, Harry told Selene of his history with Lucius. He told her about his second year and Dobby and found out that Dobby used to belong to Selene. He told her of his fourth year, but was very vague about his fifth year's meeting with the man. Finally, he told her about the past few months and the public outing of Lucius as an Incubus and the subsequent discovery as his mate. The retelling of most of the story didn't hurt as much, and he thought that it had much to do with Selene.

Selene was alternately laughing merrily, scowling angrily, or frowning sadly.

"Much of what you have said is news to me, Harry, but not surprising. I am sorry my childe was involved in many of the events that caused you such pain."

Harry nodded, but straightened when a thought came to him. He wondered why he'd never thought of it before.

"What's going through that head of yours?"

"Well, my being an Incubus' mate isn't something that occurs overnight, right? So why are we just finding out about it?"

Selene looked thoughtful for a second before answering, "This is mainly guesswork, but I conjecture that your bond to the Dark Lord overrode the bond between you and the Incubus. Only when you became strong enough to control or block the link to the Dark Lord was the bond to Lucius able to reassert itself."

Harry nodded, thinking that answer made sense. However, his stomach rumbling caused the young man to blush.

Selene and said, "Why don't you go eat, Harry Potter. I'll always be here, come back and talk with me soon."

"I will, I promise."

Harry turned to leave, feeling vary buoyant and happy. He had just reached the door when he remembered why he'd been wandering in the first place. He turned back to the painting.

"Do you have any idea what I should get Lucius for Christmas?"

Selene looked thoughtful for a few moments before looking sadly at Harry.

"I have not seen my childe in years. I'm afraid I don't know him as I once did. I'm sorry I can't be of more help, but you are his mate, you'll know what to get him. Just trust yourself."

"Thank you, Selene."

"Good day, Harry."

Harry turned and left the room, feeling like he'd left a mother's embrace.


	9. Chapter 9

It was Christmas Eve morning and Harry still hadn't gotten Lucius a gift. This was harder than it should have been. So, not completely knowing where to start, Harry decided to go to Diagon Alley. All he needed to do was convince Lucius to let him go.

"Why do you need to go to Diagon Alley?"

Harry sighed heavily, not necessarily wanting to tell Lucius that he was the reason.

"It's personal."

Lucius narrowed his eyes, obviously not liking that answer.

"I need to go to Gringotts."

Lucius waved his hand, dispersing the importance of that statement.

"You do not need to go to Gringotts, I'll cover the expenses."

"No!"

Lucius looked surprised and mildly curious at Harry's vehement reply. Harry was just glad the man wasn't angry.

"I don't need to be monetarily indebted to you like that."

"You are my—"Lucius didn't get to finish that statement as Harry interrupted him.

"Technically, I'm just a guest until the bond is made official. So far, you've done nothing to further the bond you forced in September, and I'm not ready to let you. Therefore, I would like to go to Gringotts and get some of my money."

Lucius sat back in his chair, hands crossed. Harry was beginning to hate the study, he felt like some recalcitrant child sent to the headmaster's office.

"Alright, you may go. I don't suppose you would oppose if someone accompanied you, would you? Or does that cross the guest/host limitations?"

Harry fought a smile at Lucius' wry tones. If the man let himself relax, he might actually be tolerable.

"No, I think that should be fine. Thank you sir, it's just some last minute things."

Lucius nodded, not looking the least bit interested. Instead, he said, "Draco will accompany you, as will Severus. I believe they need to go to Diagon Alley also."

The man's voice brooked no argument, so Harry nodded his ascent.

The trip was welcomingly uneventful. Draco spoke infrequently, and Snape, not at all, not even to deliver some disparaging remark. The best part was, as it turned out, Harry didn't have to stop anywhere other than Gringotts. Thankfully, Draco and Snape's errands weren't time consuming.

When Harry stepped into his vault, he found a package that he had never noticed before. Curiously, he picked it up. It was a small brown box with a bright blue ribbon wrapping it and a tag attached. Written on the tag was, 'Break Open in Case of Emergency!' Not knowing what would necessarily constitute as an emergency, he ripped off the ribbon and opened the package.

Harry gasped in surprise and delight when he saw what was in the box. Another note inside the box said, 'Keep it safe. Give this to someone special.' Harry didn't exactly know what it was, but it was large, shiny, pretty, green, and practically hummed with magic. Harry knew it would be perfect for Lucius.

He turned to face Snape and Draco with a wide smile on his face.

"I'm done, we can go home now."

That earned him surprised looks from both Snape and Draco.

"I thought you needed to go shopping?"

Harry smiled and shook his head, saying, "Nope, I found the perfect gift for your father."

Snape snorted, "I doubt your definition of perfect is different from his."

Harry smiled secretly and motioned the two Slytherins into his vault.

"I'll show you."

The gasps of shock from the two were priceless and Harry reveled in it.

"Where did you get that, Potter?" Snape's words were barely more than an awed whisper.

"From in here."

Automatically, Snape and Draco's eyes scanned the vault, seemingly ignoring the Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts.

"What would something like that be doing in a minor's school vault?"

Harry's interest was piqued with the 'minor's school vault,' detail, but ignored it in light of Snape's overwhelming surprise.

"It's rare, priceless and dangerous, I take it?"

Snape looked at Harry as if he'd grown two heads, so Draco answered.

"Potter, that's a dragon's heart. They're near impossible to get."

Harry wondered how the box had gotten in his vaults when he first saw it, but now; now the question of how it got there was overwhelming.

"Then I suppose your father will appreciate the gift."

With that, Harry walked out of the vault. The trip back to the manor was quiet, which, again, Harry appreciated. He didn't say anything to Lucius when he saw the man, merely nodded. He made a brief stop to his room, and then walked straight to Selene's room.

"I found the perfect gift for Lucius, one more suitable than I'd thought."

Selene smiled fondly at Harry fondly from her place on the wall.

"I'm glad. What did you get my childe?"

"Apparently I'm giving him a dragon's heart."

Selene's eyes widened in surprise as she responded, "He will definitely like that. Now, tell me more about your day. Today is Christmas Eve, right?"

Harry nodded, then launched into a narrative of his day. Then, he and Selene jumped to other topics. Harry truly liked Selene; he felt comfortable and peaceful while in her presence. He really wished he'd been able to know her as more then a portrait of a beautiful woman.

Time passed unnoticed by Harry, and the next thing he realized, the door slammed opened, revealing a truly angry Lucius Malfoy.

His voice, when he spoke after taking in the scene, was very quiet and controlled.

"I thought I made it clear that you were not to go in any rooms that were locked and warded."

Harry stood up slowly, as if faced with a predator about to strike. Looking at Lucius, he realized that description wasn't that far off from the truth.

"I didn't."

Lucius narrowed his eyes, clearly disbelieving the young Gryffindor.

"Obviously you have the same disregard for telling the truth as you do for following directions."

Harry's eyes widened at the threat he heard in the man's tone of voice. Speaking slowly and clearly, harry tried to reason with the older man.

"I swear I did not go into any rooms that were locked or warded. I got lost the other day and found this room, unlocked. I've been speaking with Selene—"

Harry stopped abruptly when he saw Lucius' eyes widen and his nostrils flare in anger.

"Selene? I should have known."

Lucius hadn't been happy when he'd learned Harry was in this part of the manor; it was the family wing, where aunts, cousins, parents, or other close relatives would stay. However, thankfully, Lucius didn't have any, so this portion of the manor was unused. Moreover, Lucius thought, up until now, unknown.

When he'd learned Harry was speaking with Selene, his unhappiness became even more prominent. He honestly didn't know why Harry being in these rooms disturbed him, other than the fact that Harry wasn't supposed to be there. The wards should have kept the boy out.

Suddenly, and strongly, the Incubus wanted to claim its mate. It could sense confusion, fear, and anger rolling off Harry, and the want was so strong that Lucius let it have some control.

He stalked the boy, crowding him, pushing him back towards the armoire against the far wall. His hand came up and gently encircled Harry's throat, his thumbs rubbed against his pulse point.

He nearly purred in satisfaction when he felt Harry's heartbeat speed up. The unfinished bond poked at the Incubus like poking at a sore tooth. The beginning of the bond was set, but it resonated wrong. It just begged to be completed and set to rights.

"Lord Malfoy?"

Such trepidation in those softly spoken words, wary curiosity in those sparkling, emerald eyes, yet the fear lingered. Lucius was surprised to realize the Incubus didn't like the fear, wanted to get rid of the fear, replace it. It had never cared in the past; indeed, it had gloried in that bit of fear.

Slowly, Lucius lowered his head and nuzzled just behind Harry's ear, sliding his lips lightly across the sensitive flesh. He smiled when Harry's knees buckled and the boy gasped in surprise. It was an obviously, previously unknown erogenous zone for Harry. Perfect. He settled his hands at Harry's hips, helping to stabilize him.

The powers inherent in an Incubus included the ability to stimulate, to arouse his victims. Lucius rarely used it, finding that his past lovers/victims were easily aroused merely by himself. He didn't want to give up control to the Incubus, even during that act meant to feed it. Even then, sex was for Lucius, for the Incubus, not the victim.

Now, the Incubus didn't merely want to feed, it wanted to pleasure its mate, and Lucius was along for the ride.

He bit down on the tendon along Harry's neck, worrying the flesh, then sucking, drawing the blood to the surface. The Incubus wanted to mark Harry; it wanted to satisfy the too stretched bond.

Harry grabbed onto Lucius biceps, and held tightly, his eyes squeezed shut. The Incubus steadily pushed its power into the boy, drawing quiet moans and short gasps forth. Those, as much as Harry's growing arousal, fed the Incubus, making it want more.

Lucius pulled back from Harry's neck, licking the tender flesh one last time as he did so. He looked at Harry's face, flushed rosy and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. The boy was breathtaking in his Incubus induced arousal, and Lucius was actually imagining the boy aroused from only him, instead of the Incubus.

He wanted to see the boy reclined on lily-white silk sheets, blood red velvet tying his hands above him; Harry's hair a stark contrast to the sheets. His breath coming short and fast, his sun-kissed skin flushed all over, his muscles quivering.

Yes, Lucius could see it in his mind's eye, clearly. He could see his hands soothing over impatient limbs, taunting and teasing the boy. He'd always touch achingly near to his need, but not touching the arousal, not yet.

His lips would follow his hands, mapping out the same journey.

Lucius' Incubus pushed forth more of its energy into Harry, causing him to moan louder. The Gryffindor started rocking his hips, trying to find friction to help remove the pressure he felt. He felt tense, coiled tighter than a spring; Harry felt like he did just before a steep dive on his broom. He felt ready to burst.

Lucius' Incubus was in a feeding frenzy, happily gorging itself on the heat waves of arousal coming from Harry. His hands tightened on Harry's hips, helping them find a rhythm.

He felt the bite of Harry's short nails in his biceps, even through his shirt. Harry tipped his head back and Lucius watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, watched that pink tongue wet his lips. Unable to resist, Lucius leaned forward and licked a trail up Harry's neck, tasting salt and chocolate. He reached Harry's mouth and licked at the glistening lips, tracing along the path Harry licked moments earlier.

Something about that action snapped something in Harry. Where seconds before, he was pulling Lucius closer, now he was pushing him away, struggling to free himself from the man.

"Please, stop. You gave you word to Dumbledore."

Slowly, the struggles permeated Lucius' brain, allowing him to wrest control from the Incubus. The mention of the headmaster's name was like pouring a bucket of cold water on him. He forcibly wrenched himself away from Harry, watching the boy crumpled to the floor.

Both individuals were breathless, but one was fearful and the other angry. Harry stood up, his eyes blazing, not in passion, but in anger. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to straighten his clothes. Pulling forth every bit of Malfoy pomp and pride he had learned from Draco, Harry addressed Lucius.

"I'll thank you not to accost me without my express permission."

Lucius lost that edge of fear he'd had at losing control so easily when he heard Harry. However, he couldn't exactly and truthfully get angry at the hurtful words. He did accost Harry. Therefore, Lucius went with a different attack.

"And I'll thank you not to enter rooms that you are not invited into, especially when they are locked and warded."

The brat had the audacity to roll his eyes.

"We've been over this already. This room was not locked or warded against my entrance."

To Lucius' dismay, he could feel his anger getting the better of him. He had a tremendous temper when roused, but his self-control usually prevented it from manifesting. However, when in close proximity to Harry Potter, that legendary control fled, leaving Lucius at the mercy of his more terrifying and base emotions.

Harry, on the other hand, was strangely calm. His legendary temper was nowhere to be seen. In fact, the more Lucius lost control of his emotions, the more in control Harry was of his.

Lucius took a step towards Harry, but the brat stood his ground. The movement, or rather, lack thereof, spiked Lucius' anger further. He was also losing control over the Incubus. It was upset that its mate had shut his emotions off. Again. A mate should have been unable to prevent its Incubus from reading his emotions.

"Get out!" The words were spoken through clenched teeth and tightened jaw.

Harry didn't need to be told twice, but he did not run from the room; rather, he walked steadily out.

As soon as the boy closed the door behind him, Lucius rounded on Selene's portrait and fired a blast of pure, wandless energy at it. It didn't hit the portrait, but a barrier of some sort.

A tinkling laugh echoed through the room. A puff of smoke burst from the portrait settling before Lucius. When it cleared, Selene was standing before Lucius.

"Temper, temper, my childe. One of these days, you're going to regret destroying something."

Lucius leveled a stony glare on Selene before retorting, "Today would not have been such a day, I assure you, my dear."

Selene threw her head back and laughed a full, rich, throaty laugh, and Lucius felt himself reflexively relax. He sighed as the woman wrapped her arms about his neck.

"Seriously, my Light, you need to control your temper. It will hurt someone, especially yourself."

Lucius gentrly removed Selene's arms from his neck and went to sit in the chair Harry had been sitting in.

"I usually have much better control, but Potter is not conducive to that control."

Selene brought a snifter of brandy to Lucius, then sat on his lap.

Lucius grunted, then glared. "Must you attach yourself to me like a limpet, woman?" But he made no move to remove Selene.

"It's easier to have a conversation with you when I can be assured that you can't go anywhere."

Lucius didn't say anything, just took a sip of his brandy. Selene turned serious and made sure she had Lucius' attention.

"The bond between you and Harry is different; off somehow."

"I know." Lucius wished he could get up and walk around, but even though Selene was small, she made sure Lucius couldn't move from the chair.

"I'm serious, Lucius. I'm worried. You lost control much too easily earlier. You have to finish the bond before you can fix it. Otherwise, I fear very bad things will happen."

Lucius gulped the rest of the brandy, closing his eyes against the burn.

"The boy is 16 years old, Selene. Even I am not depraved enough to fully consummate the bond with a child."

"Not such a child, that one."

"True as that may be, he is still a minor, and I promised both him and Albus Dumbledore that nothing would happen until he was of age, and when I had Harry's permission."

Selene ran her hand through Lucius' hair, causing the blond to sigh and lean into the touch.

"How noble."

Lucius snorted in ironic amusement.

"He is untouched, Lucius. He will make a good mate for you, much better than Narcissa."

Lucius rolled his eyes and pushed Selene off his lap.

"I have no choice who the Incubus chooses as its mate."

Selene frowned at Lucius' words, but didn't say anything about it.

"You did not tell Harry who you are did you, Selene?"

Selene sent an amused and teasing glance Lucius' way, and watched his face cloud in suspicion.

"I told him I was your mother."

Lucius laughed at that, and Selene pouted playfully.

"Well, it's true…sort of. I didn't birth you myself, "And her face of distaste showed what she thought of that idea, "but, I did create you."

"Yes, it's your fault I have an Incubus attached to me."

"Lucius, how many times have I told you? The Incubus was in you the whole time, it's a part of you. I just woke it up and made you aware of it."

Lucius sighed in exasperation and replied, "I'm not having this conversation with you."

Selene growled in annoyance and said, "Fine, be immature about this. But, you're going to have to accept it eventually."

Lucius rubbed at his temples.

"I'm leaving now. I'd appreciate it if you left the boy alone, Selene."

Selene glided back towards the portrait and looked at Lucius.

"I happen to like Harry, and he likes me. If he returns here, I will not turn him away. Harry needs someone in this house who truly likes him." She said this with a pointed look at Lucius.

For some reason, those words hurt Lucius, no, not Lucius; the Incubus.

Selene's face softened at the emotions running through the man.

"If you want to make it up to him, apologize for the accusations, and for frightening him."

Lucius sent her a disgusted look, which darkened further when Selene smiled.

"Apologizing isn't that hard, Lucius. You should try it sometime; it won't kill you."

Lucius rolled his eyes as he walked out of the room. He stopped just inside the doorway, looked back as Selene, saying, "Maybe not, but why risk it?"

Lucius closed the door to amused laughter.


End file.
